


Midnight Dreary

by Miny21



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: After the end of the game, Friendship, Gen, Horror, I'm Bad At Titles, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Night in a mansion, Post-Canon, Psychological Horror, Song names for titles!, Standard cliches, Time to split up team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-10-21 06:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20688935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miny21/pseuds/Miny21
Summary: When a bizarre call for help arrives at Steve's doorstep, him and his team find out that not every adventure has a clear villain or a clear end.





	1. Watch Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, welcome to my first fanfiction ever! And the first story fully written in english!  
Anyways, I don't expect this to be perfect, being the first, of course, but as long as it is enjoyed, it's all that matters.  
I welcome any criticism and tips!

Today fort De'Arnise was empty of guards and servants. Some would think that it was abandoned, others would think this is a sign to capture it, and the rest would think that this was a trap set for the remaining enemies.

  
The truth was none of those.

  
The keep might be lacking in men, but it wasn’t empty. Nobody in their right mind would ever think of attacking if they knew what was happening there, or who were the guests.

  
Today was a day of celebration. The treat of Bhaal was no more! Steve McConnor, along his friends, his allies, his companions had brought the end of the bhaalspawn crisis, with it the only chance of Bhaal’s resurrection. They might not leave the life of adventure behind, but one dark cloud above their heads finally cleared. They were free, and they shall be damned if they didn’t celebrate!

  
It was a simple affair, people coming together just for a short time, enough to unwind from all that has passed. Friends of old and new, from Baldur’s Gate to Amketran, from high figures like Queen Ellesime, to lords of Badlur’s Gate to companions of old Xan, Kivan, Skie, etc., to friends made on the road Bathlazar, Solaufein, even Adalon the Silver Dragon. Surprisingly, everyone had fun, exchanging stories, eating and drinking.

  
And Saemon Havarian was somewhere around here. After a few successful attempts to kick him out they gave up and let him in. Steve made sure to tell Nalia to check out his pocket when he left, assuming that he wanted to be found, and to do an inventory of the keep tomorrow.

  
Slowly, but surely, the party died out. Everyone important or who had important things to do left. The bards turned towards slower ballads as the buzzing of voices got softer as well. The circles merged, new friendships were made, old one were revisited. The more evil companions didn’t try to murder the good one and vice-versa. A good night of celebration, he could call it that no problem.

  
Steve was in deep conversation with Keldorn and Mazzy about the life of paladins when they weren’t sent to fight evil or in any other mission, when Aerie put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention

  
“There’s a courier at the entrance. He’s said he’s got a message for you, Steve.”

  
“If you could excuse me?”, Kelodorn and Mazzy nodded, and retreated for a moment to give Steve some space to speak with Aerie. “Something important?”

  
“In a way. He didn’t say anything more than _I have a message for the lord of the Keep, Steve McConnor_. But...”

  
“But what?”

  
“I'm sorry for saying something like this about the man, but he doesn’t seem quite right in the mind. He seems...lost. Lost in a haze of his own mind.”, Steve furrowed his brows, that did sound peculiar.

  
“Alright, I’ll go see who’s at the door.”, he turned back towards the two fighters of good “I’ll come back, if it’s no problem?” the two didn’t complain, they wished him luck. Steve made way to the outside to the front courtyard. There stood a man staring at the keep, still as a statue. Steve petted his belt. He still had a dagger at his side, good. The man looked harmless, but all these adventures taught him better. “Um, hello, sir? Good night to you, I’ve heard that you have a message for me?”

  
“Yes, the man nodded slowly and pulled a scroll out of his bag. It is of utmost importance that you read this paper” Steve could help himself from looking at the man in a quizzical way, that stillness, that monotone tone and blank face didn’t give him any points in convincing Steve that this could have any good ending.

  
“Uh huh…?” if he might have offended the man, he surely didn’t seem to show it. “Well, alright, I’ll see what is this all about and I’ll give you my – Where did you go?”

  
The man disappeared. He didn’t teleport, there was no sign of using magic around, no light, no noise, no smell of electricity in the air. He wasn’t an illusion, otherwise Steve wouldn’t have the scroll in his hand. For all that he knew, the man evaporated in front of him.

  
With a deep sigh, Steve shrugged. Weirder things have happened to him and to others in Faerun. This scroll, it had a weird feel to it, but it didn’t bother him, he passed through worse things.

  
With a last look through the courtyard, no sign of him or his presence, Steve went back inside while keeping his eyes on the piece of paper in his hands. It had a wax seal on it. A noble maybe? Not another Firkraag please. The crest didn’t ring him any bells, maybe Nalia knew something more about it.

  
With careful hands, he managed to open the scroll without damaging the wax seal and was ready to read what was inside when he heard something. Or, better said, the lack of something. Taking his eyes from the scroll, Steve found out that everybody in the main hall was looking at him. Or waiting for him to say what was on the scroll.  
“What?” that was more a reflex than anything.

  
“The scroll” it was Edwin, no, wait, Edwina, this night was getting to him, the one who said what was on everybody’s minds. “What is so important about it that you forgot you entered in the halls? (How has he managed to survive even today? Not even luck should have been enough!)”

  
“Good question. I’ve just received myself” Steve turned back to the scroll, deciding to read it aloud. “_To Steve McConnor, I request your help in ending a menace that started plaguing my manor from a few moons ago. I have heard of your exploits, and I’ve decided that there is nobody more experienced than you, isn’t that charming? I can’t rest easily knowing that you will doing this for free, and such I’ve put a reward of **50 000 gold coins**_?!” Steve couldn’t hid the surprise in his voice or on his face when he turned to his friends.

  
A murmur filled the room. To say everybody thought that there was something off about the reward would be an understatement. Something like this can’t come without some sort of fine print. It was too easy, too much gold for an unknown task. Firkraag has been a lesson for them all.

  
It smelled like a trap. A bizarre man in the middle of the night, a letter with an unknown task and a huge reward, and, now that he looked at it, a lack of a name. Of course. The one who wrote this said that the problem was been going for a few moons now, why did he request help from them now? Yes, they were quite occupied, especially in the last month, but they never turned away help when it was needed.

  
“I don’t like anything about this” stated Steve, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “We don’t know what this menace is, we don’t know who sent us this, we don’t know where to go. It’s a trap in anything but name.”

  
“Soooo,” asked Imoen, “what’s the plan then? You surely look like you won’t let it go either.”

  
“Because I won’t. That’s true. Something here is very wrong. It’s a trap in everything but name. And that’s why we have to check it, to see why would somebody set a trap for us. And if it truly is a call for help, who are we if we don’ answer it?” Steve didn’t need to check, but a few of the less morally inclined people sighed, and probably rolled their eyes too. “In any case, I will go and investigate this matter. Not yet, of course. In this letter it is written than the menace started more than a few months ago, it can still wait a few days.”

  
“You’ll go alone? Imoen raised herself fromthe table. Cuz, I’m sure you know pretty well –“

  
“That you will come with me!” said they at the same time. Steve couldn’t stop himself from cracking a smile. “But of course! I won’t stop anyone from coming, and I won’t sway anyone to come if they don’t want to. Who wants to come?”

  
They didn’t hesitate. Imoen was already on her feet, ready to go when he says. Jaheira, Minsc, his oldest friends and companions, Keldorn, Aerie, Mazzy, Rasaad, stalward friends, Sarevok and Edwina...? Sarevok would do anything, as long as it was one with his brother, but Edwina? What has she got in mind?

  
“This is a chance of studying an unexpected phenomena. (The man who appears in the middle of the night, and disappearing without leaving a trace. There’s no chance this buffoons would be able to understand what is happening in that manor.)”

  
“Edwina?” A few chuckles passed through the group when Edwina jumped. “Were you spying on Steve?” Edwina just glared at Aerie.

  
“Again, if I might add?” Viconia placed her chin on her hands, smiling a little smile towards Edwina.

  
“...No?”

  
“Then can you help us locating the source of this letter?” Steve knew this won’t work by a long chance, but he wanted to know what was her excuse this time.

  
“And rob you of the mental exercise needed to uncover the location? Why would I waste my magical energy for something so trivial?”

  
“Totally!” Edwina’s head spinned so hard towards Neera that it threatened to snap. “Bet you’ve used all your divination spells to check on Steve, am I right?”

  
“Watch your tongue, half-elf! If you don’t to lo-“

  
“Nalia!” shouted Steve, stopping Edwina and Neera from slinging flames and each other, and sparing the others and the Keep from burning and from requiring to casting Fire Resistances. “I’ve managed to keep the seal undamaged, do you think you can recognize it? Or at least know somebody who can do it?”

  
Nalia crossed the hall quickly, taking the letter from Steve’s hand. She skipped over the writing, it was a lord’s at least, and put her eyes on the seal. It was in red wax, the crest was simple, the details were a bit lost during pressing but it looked like a shield with a castle covered in something. Vines, maybe? It seemed familiar. She didn’t recognize it but it seemed to her familiar somehow.

  
“I”, she stressed, “don’t recognize it. But I’ll look upstairs in the library. My father had a few books about the noble families here in Amn. I’ll go seek them out and I think… Yeah, tomorrow I’ll have it ready.”

  
“I will help, if it isn’t too much of a problem,” Anomen joined Nalia, taking a quizzical look at the letter himself. “I understand why you think nothing good comes from this. There isn’t even a signature!”

  
“Thank you. Now, for the moment we will do nothing. We have to prepare for the journey and for what awaits us in this manor. For now, let us finish this day of celebration!” Steve raised a mug, the guests doing the same. “May Bhaal never rise again!”

  
“May Bhaal never rise again!”

  
\---

  
The next day was rife with goodbyes and hangovers. Korgan was surprising him again with convincing Dorn, Valygar, Xan and Jan to a drinking contest. It was no surprise that the dwarf won, but it was one that Valygar came second, surpassing even Kagain, who was the forth. Who was the third? Xan, who, to the relief of many, finally woke up from a borderline alcoholic coma.

  
One by one, his companions gave Steve their regards, leaving to do their own, but not without hoping that they will work again one day. So, that leaved him with his team and the two nobles cobbled up in the library, researching the family who owns the crest.

  
Without much to do except some exercise and theories about the mission, the day passed quickly and before they knew it, Anomen and Nalia came down from the library with a book and a map. Steve came forth two greet the two, each holding a book and a map scroll.

  
“So”, started Nalia, rubbing her eyes, “we found somebody who’s crest matches the one on the seal.”

  
“An obscure family, by the looks of it. Dionaea”, Anomen opened the book in his hands, showing the crest, a shield with a castle covered in vines with roses in full bloom. “Fancy, I see that myself” a tired and amused little smile passed on his face

  
“The family is still going on, with the birth of a son twenty years ago, so he might have been the one who sent the letter. Anyway, towards more important matters, the location”, Nalia set the map on the table, tracing with her finger the locations. “While we don’t have the actual place, we’re pretty sure it’s somewhere around here”, Nalia placed her finger on a forest north of Windspear Hills. “Unfortunately, besides being in a clearing in a forest, that’s all we have”, Nalia rubbed her face, blinking tiredly a few time.

  
“Are you guys alright? I hope you haven’t stayed up late just for this.”

  
“Oh! No no, no need to worry. We haven’t stayed that up late” started Anomen. “But looking only at pages for hours can be boring. And boredom begets tiredness” and with that Anomen let himself yawn. “A good example if I can give one. And pardon me, by the way.”

  
“No problem. Happened to me and Imoen in Candlekeep too.” Steve turned towards Nalia. “I think this is enough, thank you. I’ve had to find locations in worse places, trust me. You’re free to do anything. If you wish to join us in the courtyard, I’m sure you’ll find something to do.”

  
“I’ll come by”, Anomen left the book on the table. “I want to train a bit before returning to The Order.”

  
“Alright. I’ll be training with Sarevok, Keldorn and Mazzy. Jaheira, Edwina and Aerie are preparing spells and Imoen is making bombs.”

  
“Bombs?” it didn’t surprise them that it was Imoen who was making them.

  
“Smoke, fire, things like that. More useful than they seem.” they looked quizzically at Steve and then shrugged. It was Imoen, she knew what she was doing.

  
“Pass for me, I’ll be taking care of the fort till you come back”, she shrugged. “Someone has to, and I really need to polish my leader skills.”

"Very well. We'll be back before you know it"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Icon For Hire - Watch Me


	2. Witching Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title is from Blackbriar -Witching Hour

There was a particular smell in the air when they reached the edge of the forest. That slightly electric air, the stillness and silence of nature, and the biggest sight of them all. Back there, back on the edge of the horizon, barely visible in the purple and orange sky, nothing more than a black speck.

A storm was coming.

“How much?” Jaheira didn’t require any explanations, she turned her eyes towards the horizon and frowned deeply.

“A few hours at least. Possibly even less. But I suggest we move quickly, lest we suffer the wrath of nature.”

“Suggestion accepted.”

They went at a brisk pace, from time to time taking a look to the sky to see the progress of the clouds. It wasn’t good. Faster they went, faster the clouds moved swallowing the sky behind them. Rasaad was in the lead, his speed and agility being the reasons he choose himself as a scout

“This storm is unnatural,” murmured Sarevok loud enough to be heard. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“A storm mage? A priest of Talos? A territorial druid?” Sarevok shook his head at every proposal.

“None” added Edwina. “It doesn’t feel like any of those. The storm is a walking contradiction. In itself it is natural, it is made by the nature itself, yet it doesn’t feel like it.”

“They are right.” Jaheira stopped for a moment to cast her at the black sky. A flash light up the clouds, an earth shaking thunder following it.

“Rasaad! Have you found anything?”

Rasaad was ready to answer, but Minsc had the faster mouth.

“Boo has found a way! Well… maybe. It’s old and full of plants, but he’s sure of it.”

“My friend is right. We’ve found an overgrown path, yes, but the marks of carriages are still visible in the tall grass.”

“Follow them. We might not have that much time left before the skies open, and the last things we want to be hit by lightning. Or worse, to have the forest struck by lightning.”

Rasaad nodded, and continued to scout ahead while the rest of the party went at a half run. They were right, this was an old path, not often could a straight path could be found in a forest, especially one devoid of saplings and bushes, only tall grass reaching high up towards the waist. Soon. when the first warning droplets started to hit had Rassad stopped at the edge of the clearing, the manor being clearly in view.

“We’ve arrived!” And with that he broke into a sprint to the old chained and rusted gate separating the overgrown courtyard from the overgrown clearing. With a well placed punch, he shattered the rusted padlock holding the chains together. But even Rasaad couldn’t budge the massive metal gate by himself, the rust has eaten the hinges. Minsc and Sarevok were more than enough help, pushing with enough force that they more than likely threatened to break the gate down. it resisted, the three of them managing to push it inwards as the rusty metal roared in protest.

A lighting bolt hit the gate just when they arrived under the roof of the porch, the flash more than enough to blind them for a moment. Then the sky opened dropping entire buckets of water on the overgrown lawn. And then, the thunder hit, completing the scene. Finally, they could breath easily, if they had stood more on the road they might have not arrived, especially as how it was starting to darken, both from the black clouds and the coming nightfall.

Steve had to admit, it was quite a big manor it was. He might exaggerate as he could only see the front, but it wouldn’t surprise him if it was as big as the De’Arnise Keep itself, even bigger maybe. A big manor in the middle of nowhere, he had worse problems to think about than the one he had in mind, but, still, how would it be protected from bandits? There was no settlement here, only a run down shack and a metal gate surrounding it. This was a lousy protection, every noble knew that!

A lighting and thunder combo, plus the storm starting to blow their way reminded Steve why was he here.

The double doors made of massive wood clearly have seen better days, but it seemed mostly superficial, they were still standing strong, no way to break them down easily. But first, the simple way. Steve grabbed the handles, breathed deeply, expecting the worst, and pressed upon them. The doors opened inwards, Steve nearly lost his footing, the handles themselves stopping him from fully falling down. Ignoring Edwina’s unsubtle snickers, Steve pulled himself back up and entered the antechambers, shivering at the wave of cold air hitting him like a wave of ice water.

The chamber, well, looked like a mess. Time hasn’t been kind to it, dirty and dusty, with more holes than wallpaper and carpet, with what’s left losing its color a long time ago. A few pieces of furniture still stayed on their feet, but they seemed a good breeze away from disintegrating. The most impressive piece was the candelabra hanging above their heads, gold and crystals, sparing no expense it seems. At least it didn’t look like it would fall at when they’ll least expect it, but it would still be prudent to steer clear of it.

“Ya know what this reminds me of?” started Imoen quietly.

“Oh no”, murmured Sarevok.

“Oh no”, added Steve. He just knew what she was going to say and he was not going to like it.

“One of those scary books we secretly read.”

“Imoen, I strongly suggest stopping there.” Jaheira looked warily around the room, especially at the double staircase taking to the second floor. They ended in a small balcony behind with stood a door, the way deeper into the manor

“Oh what could happen? Oh, the doors would close and the darkness would swallow us?” Imoen chuckled, while Steve looked worried. He was ready to reprimand her, but something else cut him.

As if challenged, a lightning hit, bathing all the eleven occupants in white light. But, before their instincts told them to turn to the source, the door slammed shut with a loud bang, depriving them of their only light supply. From inside the dark, a squeak echoed in the room, either from Aerie or from Boo.

Imoen could feel the burning gazes turning towards her location.

“Yeah… Heh heh, I shouldn’t have tried my luck, should I?”

“You think?” Edwina almost growled.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Steve sighted. “Of all the times you choose to be skeptical”, he murmured. "Well then, to be fair, the rest of the manor would have been dark anyways. Our plans just moved one step ahead. Jaheira, Aerie, Mazzy, do you see anything?”

“Not really”, from what he heard, Mazzy was shuffling around checking her surroundings. “Within pure darkness we can’t really make much sense of what is around. For example, I can barely see your shapes.”

“Very well then.” Steve rummaged through his pockets, trying to find the best tool for the job at hand. "Aha! I’ve found the flint and tinder, who can get their torch out the fastest?”

Through the darkness the sound of searching through backpacks was almost as loud as the storm outside, until one voice cut through them.

“I’ve got it”, it as Aerie. “Um, which one is you?” a spark was her answer. Nodding, even thought he couldn’t see that, she made her way to Steve, his form getting clearer the closer she was. “Ah, sorry”, she accidentally prodded him with the torch.

“Eh, doon’t worry. Let’s light this.”

The torch was good, they bought it new. And yet Steve had troubles lighting it, the first sparks did nothing, the next started a flame, but that one just licked the cloth before dying, and the last one seemed promising, but still extinguished itself. Steve looked at the flint and tinder with bewilderment, they weren’t new, but they were trustworthy. A chill went down Steve’s spine, like a cold breath. He ignored it, he couldn’t show weakness, not now, it was just the cold air. Steve inhaled deeply and tried again. Yes! The flame was small, but it slowly started to gain strength and –

Aerie screamed, dropping the torch, extinguishing it.

“Behind you!” Steve instantly turned around fist first, hitting nothing.

“It wasn’t me!” this was Imoen talking. “Honest!”

“It wasn’t your face,” explained Aerie. “You aren’t tall enough to see over Steve’s shoulder,” it was only this time that the comment didn’t rile Imoen up. “And you weren’t close enough to him, anyways.”

“What did it look like?” asked Keldorn from the dark. “Pale? Had it had pupils? How corporeal was it?” feeling like he was starting to overwhelm Aerie, Keldorn continued calmy and in a slower tone. “Pardon me, this is our first sighting of the so called menace, if you saw anything, please tell us.”

“I – I didn’t see clearly. When the flame appeared, I looked up, and that’s when I saw it, and I screamed, dropping the torch”, Aerie took a moment to collect her thoughts “Yes, I think it was pale. It was a normal face, like nose, mouth, eye – No, it had no eyes. More like shadows from the eyebrow to the cheekbone.”

“It’s a start. Let’s try lighting it again”, Steve heard shuffling and the patting of wood. “Aerie?”

“I’ve dropped it”, she reminded him. “Can you help me please?”

“Of course,” and he crouched on the floor too, searching for the torch.

“Steve?” he already didn’t like the tone in her voice.

“Yes?”

“I know that the air is cold,” she started, already unnerving Steve. “And you do wear gloves, yes?”

“Yes? Why are you – Light! Now!”

If one thing surprises Steve is how fast one can cast a spell when ordered to. In Edwina’s hand a ball of light shined brightly illuminating the entire room. There was nobody else here, just the ten of them. Aerie was still crouched with one hand over the unlit torch.

“It was cold as ice. It was soft, it felt alive, but it was alsi cold. Too cold, even for ice giants. It grabbed the torch,” she swallowed hard, “I was the one to grab it,” Mazzy helped Aerie in her feet, taking the one hand in hers.

“Still cold”, she murmured while massaging her hand. “But it doesn’t seem to have left any other sign.”

“Should have done this from the start” he murmured while looking at the ball of light, then aerie. Steve picked up the torch and passed it to the closest, this time Imoen. This time it light up perfectly. “Hm, I think this creature likes the darkness or, at least, has more power in it.” he theorized

“I may have a theory”, proposed Keldorn, while lighting his torch from Imoen’s. “This house is haunted”, Imoen wasn’t able to contain her snicker, and Keldorn realized in what trap he fell. Yes, I know, it I should have worded it better, he couldn’t not crack a smile. But, more seriously, this might be that are fighting tonight.

“And how do we fight it?” asked Minsc, holding his sword over the shoulder. “Minsc feels like his sword of justice would be more than enough”, but Boo has other ideas, Boo squeaked. “Boo says we need to put the ghost to rest, but how?”

“We’ll burn the house down then”, offered Edwina. “Without us inside, of course”, Sarevok nodded, agreeing with the idea.

“Neera has been rubbing off of you too much” commented Mazzy.

“I don’t believe that would be a good way to do it”, argued Keldorn. “Unless you want to turn this haunted house into a haunted forest. Or to turn the ghost’s haunting towards us. And only towards us.”

“And because we can’t get out", every head turned towards Imoen, who had just tried to pull the door as hard as she could. “It’s stuck.”

“Don’t worry, with Minsc’s berserk strength these doors will know why they can’t keep us in”, Minsc gently pushed Imoen aside and grabbed the handle. “Here we go!” Minsc pulled and pulled with all of his strength but the door stayed in place, as if it hadn’t even been touched. “What? My strength is not enough? No way”, putting himself in a different position, Minsc tried again, to the worried and amused gazes around him, first by putting one foot on the door, then the other.

Unfortunately, it ended with Minsc falling to the floor accompanied with a crack like from a broken bone. Aerie and Imoen immediately jumped to his side, searching for any wound. Fortunately, the two could breath easily when, after a brief examination, the only thing Minsc suffered from was a broken ride. And a broken doorknob, as he showed it to the rest with a sheepish expression.

“You buffoon”, murmured Edwina, rubbing her face with a groan.

“I might have pulled a bit too hard…”

“Eh, don’t worry big guy, we’ll find another way out of here,” Imoen patted him on the arm.

“Unfortunately, it seems like it”, Steve rubbed his chin, thinking of a plan about how shall they do this. "I say we do it quick, both finding the exit and stopping the haunting. One team upstairs and one downstairs. We are fighting an undead here, so we need a cleric and an undead fighter on each team. Keldorn and Aerie are with me, Mazzy, Jaheira, Rasaad, you are on the other.

“I believe it would be the best for me to stay downstairs then, I feel like the nature’s call would help me better down here.”

“Understood, I’ll also take Imoen and –“

“I’ll join you, brother”, announced Sarevok.

“Very well. Minsc and Edwina shall stay with you then, does anybody have other suggestions?”

“Oh, I do! Say wacha’ want about those books, but if I learned something from then is to never split up. Bad things happen. And to be careful around sounds, who knows what kind of mimicry does this ghost have?”

“Not that bad of an advice (from someone like you)”, admitted Edwina. “But I suggest we move, I hate to stay in this cold more than necessary.”

“I agree. Before that, have you prepared the spells needed to contact each other?”

“Yup.”

“Yes.”

“Of course. Shouldn’t expect anything less from me.”

“Good. Contact us if you find anything or if any of you are in danger. “

And with that, the two teams split, one going through the east door, while the other climbed the creaking steps towards a small balcony overlooking the antechamber. These doors, on the other hand, opened easily, with nothing more than a creak of rusty hinges.

“Well then, now or never,” thought Steve, entering the new room.


	3. Castle of Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Nox Arcana - Castle of Nightmares. Pretty good atmosphere if you ask me.

“I feel like are missing something here”, stated Keldorn, stopping the party. They arrived in this corridor a few minutes ago, checking every door and every room behind the ones that were unlocked. “Do you feel it?” Steve and Imoen shook their heads, but Sarevok nodded

“Yes”, Sarevok threw a look over his shoulder, there was nothing there. “Someone, or something, is watching us. Waiting for us to do the smallest mistake. Who knows what then?”

“Exactly. Stay close. The last thing we want is to lose one of us from being careless”, Imoen threw a look back, gasping in fear

“Oh no”, whispered Imoen, looking forth with wide eyes. “Oh no, no, no. Not again.”

“Imoen? What’s going on?” asked Steve. “What’s going on? Wait, whe – Where’s Aerie?!”

“Aerie?” asked Keldorn, becoming soon aware what were the others talking about. “We’ve been careless!” Keldorn was ready to run back to the corridor’s corner, when Sarevok’s hand stopped him.

“Now you’re being careless. Like you said, we stay close. She couldn’t have disappeared long ago.”

“She wouldn’t have gone out on her own”, theorized Steve. “She must have been either tricked or taken while we looked somewhere else, none better option than the other. We need to go back”, but before that, Steve came to Imoen, who looked at nothing while shivering, and whispered something her ear. Imoen blinked twice and looked back to Steve. Her shivering lessened, then she gave him a determined nod.

Slowly and careful, the four made their way back over the corner, finding the corridor almost unchanged. A lone door stood open, beckoning the party to enter. None wanted. Sarevok went first, but he stopped at the threshold. Being sure that his companions were watching his back, he stuck his head into the room. It was empty, of course.

A thought flew into his mind. What if there was a secret door? He used them long ago to disappear without a trace, so it wouldn’t be impossible for others to do the same, especially in a big manor such as this one.

“Sister, I need your assistance.” Her skills would be most useful here.

Imoen nodded and placed herself behind Sarevok, Keldorn and Steve just a half metre away, ready to follow. Sarevok entered and abruptly went to the left, Imoen quickly following him, but going instead to the center of the room. The men followed shortly, finding no trace of Sarevok and Imoen looking to the side while trying to warm herself.

“It’s soo cold in here”, she murmured

“Imoen?” when she turned back, seeing the room empty of Sarevok, Imoen couldn’t help herself in letting her mouth fall open.

“Where? How? No! Not him too!” Imoen threw her fingers through her pink hair, her eyes darting from one side of the room to the other. “It’s like with Him again, taking the others to who knows where!”

“We’ll find him, trust me.” Imoen nodded. “Whoever’s doing this, they are nothing like him, they don’t have any idea what they are fighting with.” Imoen nodded again, but the wide and alert look in her eyes stayed. “Keldorn, are you still here?” Steve turned back, breathing in relief that the paladin was still with them, close with them.

“And I hope that I will still be. What wanted Sarevok in here?”

They were in a simple bedroom. A bed, a wardrobe, a table with two simple chairs and a half full bookshelf.

“You’ve heard him, he needed my help. For what, I dunno”, Imoen looked through the entire room, from the chairs and the table in the middle, to the bed and armoire next to a wall each, and the bookshelf on the right side of the door… The right side of the door? “I think I have an idea”, while taking a peek from time to time back to see if the two were still there. Imoen walked to the bookshelf, checking the spines of the books, most of them about Amn or surrounding region, with a few bestiaries. “Hey, that’s a weird one…”

“What did you find?”

“A single book about Candlekeep. And by that, I mean the title is Candlekeep”, before Steve or Keldorn could say anything, Imoen took the book from the shelf. All that they heard was a click and the shelf moved less than half a centimeter forward.

“Wait. If I may”, Keldorn gently moved Imoen out of the way, and grabbed the back of the shelf. Like a door, the shelf came outward, behind him a dark stone staircase leading down into the deeps. “I don’t trust it”, it wasn’t an opinion, it was a fact.

“Me neither”, agreed Steve, with Imoen shaking her head. “But what other choice do we have? The manor plays with us. Sarevok disappeared before our eyes. What if we go and explore the rest of this floor and find nothing. Or worse, the staircase disappears? I know how you feel, I don’t like this a bit either, but we have to do something.”

“With what we have at hand, you might be right. Imoen, you’ve read books like this, have you seen any like the one we are in?”

“Ah”, she smiled sheepishly, while dragging the sole of her foot back and forth. “You see, it’s funny you say that…”

“You stopped when it got too scary, didn’t you?” Steve could feel how the brain requested the hands to give a massage to the temples.

“…No?” Keldorn’s gaze was tired and unamused, Steve was massaging his temples. “Fine, fine, you’re right. I was little, you fell asleep first and we were reading late night, give me a break. But I’ve managed to finish a few, and the ending were…”, Imoen stopped and did a so-n-so sign. “They had always survivors and a clear villain that they could defeat. I think.”

“It’s as good of a help as were going to get”, it seems, sighted Keldorn, putting his attention on the dark staircase. “I will go first. Imoen, you will be second, in case we need any magic. Steve, you will be the last, you will watch our backs, any questions or suggestions?” The siblings shook their heads. “Very well, let us go.”

Even with the torch burning bright, the darkness was stubborn, fighting tooth and nail to consume the light and its holder’s. Keldorn stopped a few steps down, waiting for Imoen. With a last look towards her brother, Imoen started descending until she was near Keldorn.

Steve couldn’t even make one step towards the staircase that the bookcase slammed shut, splitting the trio. In a moment of weakness, Imoen dropped the torch and run up the stairs, until she hit the bookcase. Something wasn’t right. The bookcase! It receded! Now it was mostly inside the staircase, leaving Steve no point to grapple to, and no place for them to swing it back outside.

She pushed the bookcase with all strength she’s, but it useless, it hadn’t moved even a millimeter forward. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she called into the dark.

“Keldorn, could you give me a hand?” no response from the paladin. A pit of ice formed in Imoen’s stomach. “Keldorn?” there was only darkness behind her, no sign of the paladin or the torches. “Oh no, what have I done?” she thought.

It was weird to be in total darkness. She couldn’t even see the sides of her nose. She’s dropped her torch, it must be around here somewhere. At least with it, the cold breeze would be more bearable.

Wait, breeze?

Breeze that came and went in a rhythm, blowing in her hair like wind. Imoen turned her neck slightly, feeling the breeze touch her face. Then, it stopped. A warmer breeze touched her neck for less than a second.

First, she was blinded. Second, she realized her mouth was open and in her hand stood a ball of light, illuminating a meter or two in front of. Third, there was nobody there except herself. The breeze didn’t stop, it just started coming from further into the dark depths.

There was no way she could go back through the bookcase door, leaving her only one option. Down.

At the very least, she’s found her torch untouched. A cantrip later and she already felt warmer. At least that, in this small, dark tunnel going down into the unknown.

\---

Keldorn couldn’t give a damn if the gods stroke him down right now and here from all of his blasphemous cursing. He lost two good friends in less that it took him to blink, and that’s without mentioning Aerie and Sarevok. The bookcase might have been out of pure concrete, one with the wall at how much he could budge it.

Exhausted, Keldorn rested his head on the warm wood, releasing a breath from deep in his lungs. He needed to press on, he needed to find them, wherever they were. He could feel it, the house wouldn’t ki – get rid of them that fast. He couldn’t even think of that, not now, not ever.

Keldorn whispered a small prayer to Torm and continued his walk deeper down, keeping his head held high. It was no use to despair, not here, not now, they went thru worse.

\---

Steve was currently kneeling on a pile of books, their writing more or less meaningless to him. Since the bookcase receded in the wall his only options were to pull every book or to wait for Keldorn and Imoen to push it from the back. From the silence behind it and the absence of books on the shelf, what happened to Sarevok and Aerie happened to them too. Or happened to him. Semantics, really.

With a deep sigh, Steve raised himself up from the warm floor and picked up his still lit torch. He threw a dark look to the books, but thought better of it, the last thing he needed was an uncontrollable fire. He threw one last look towards the bookcase and exited the room.

“I’ve promised her that we’ll never let each other go like that”, he murmured sadly, preparing himself to explore the rest of floor.


	4. Fear of the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Iron Maiden - Fear of the Dark.

From what Jaheira could say, the downstairs portion of this manor was empty of activity. But not empty of life, if one could call it that. Nobody was following them, and yet there was a presence encompassing this house, something so interweaved with the stone and the wood in a way that was almost overwhelming. They were watched, no doubt about it. However, their watcher knew his cards, he put them on edge, waiting for the best moment to strike.

They needed to stay close one to the other, lest they be attacked by whatever is hidden in the manor.

For the moment, they took a break in what used to be a kitchen, where else could they find rusty utensils and rotten food, to think about their next move. The floor seemed empty at the first sight. It was enough, for now, it narrowed their options. One, they could go upstairs. Two, they could go deeper down into a possible basement, no manor, especially one like this, would forget a cold and dry storage space underground.

However, he upper floors were taken by Steve and his team, their only option being finding the basement and going down. If they had a bad feeling about the manor itself, the thought of going deeper felt worse, something deep, like a subconscious warning.

“Any progress?” asked Mazzy, pulling Jaheira out of her thoughts. She asked Edwina, who, at the moment, was deep in concentration, a small droning sound surrounding her.

“None”, she said in a monotone tone. “It is not like they would ignore me. They are predictable, they would respond.”

“Has something happened to them? “Jaheira asked, concern growing in her chest. They were more than capable, but, after all, feelings had their own logic.

“It is a possibility”, Edwina opened her eyes, and popped her neck left and right. “It is interesting though, the spell would have worked even if they weren’t adepts in the art. No, it was more like interference”, even then, Edwina rubbed her chin, her mind deep in thought.

“Somebody was blocking the signal? This might be worse than we thought”, Jaheira stopped for a moment, racking her head. “This reminds me of something”, she said to no one in particular. “I’ve heard something about ghost and haunting like this. Dying unfulfilled turns theses poor souls into something frozen on their last emotion. Mostly anger, and despair.”

“And you think maybe because of this anger, they must have created the interference?” asked Mazzy, to which Jaheira nodded.

“Strong emotions can cloud minds. Minsc broke an illithind’s mind control with nothing more than his berserker's anger. Whatever is this spirit feeling, it must be strong enough to saturate the entire house.”

“Now I understand why”, murmured Edwina, her face dark. (Hm, a good theory, but completely wrong). “Let me explain for you”, she started when the three pair of eyes were on her. “If the haunting was strong enough to interfere with the spell, it wouldn’t have worked, it wouldn’t have connected at all. That emotion, whatever that would be, would tear through the spell like rocks through paper.”

“But you said that your call was ignored”, argued Mazzy. “Wouldn’t that mean that it didn’t connect at all?”

“I said _they wouldn’t ignore me_, not that the call was ignored. I felt that it connected.”

“Oh” gulped Rasaad. “The spell worked as intended”, he whispered, his skin getting paler.

“Then you haven’t had an interference”, added Mazzy.

“Something else accepted the call”, finished Jaheira, feeling a cold sweat on her back.

“This isn’t just a simple haunting”, it seems, Edwina started to pace around. “It can’t be the work of devils, evil gods or some mad archmage. You said our was to go deeper into the manor, possibly into the basement?”, Jaheira hesitated for a second, then nodded, she already didn’t like what would Edwina’s suggest. “I suggest we leave, the others are more than resourceful enough to find their own way to the outside.”

From the unamused looks of the three, they would prefer to stay and confront the being in the house. She would have been content to burn the manor down, she had the high level spells ready, but she wouldn’t dare use them for something so minor like a haunting, that would be a waste. At the very least she could try to convince these three that her plan was the correct one, before the threat becomes active, not just all encompassing.

Wait? Three of them? Four in total?

“Where’s the brute?” The words slipped through Edwina’s mouth.

Only now have they observed the absence of Minsc. Edwina must admit, it would have been amusing to watch the three dart their eyes around the room like scared chickens, but the implication bothered her too. The man could be quiet if he wanted, that was true, but not when he was with the team, if he wanted to do something on his own he would have said it. Loudly.

How did he disappear without making a sound?

“How? He was just behind us. There was no way he was taken, nothing could do that. He must have been tricked!” theorized Rasaad.

“I think I know how”, Mazzy grit her teeth. “His sense of justice. If he heard somebody being in danger, there’s nothing stopping him from going to help.”

“No, there is a thing”, argued Jaheira. “Us. He wouldn’t leave without us. Or at the very least, he would have told us first, then he would have jumped into action. The question is how was only him affected?”

“As much I would like to ponder it too, we can do it later. We need to find him first”, Mazzy started walking to the threshold with Rasaad behind her.

“You will come with us”, Jaheira stopped just before the door, and turned back towards Edwina, who was resting on one of the old cupboards, with a tone that left no place for arguments.

“Yes, of course, she sighted. (As if I have any other choice). “After you, if you may”, Jaheira narrowed her vision at the woman in red, but turned on her heel, ready to follow the two others.

She didn’t do more than one step when she realized something. Jaheira ran up to the door, sticking her head out on the corridor and looking left and right. With a curse under her breath, Jaheira returned and took Edwina by the arm, dragging her outside.

“What in the Nine Hells are you doing, woman?!”

“We need to stay together. As you have just seen, or not, I’ve left Rasaad and Mazzy out of sight for not even a second. They disappeared”, Edwina’s eyes widened. “Look out yourself, no sign of them and no torchlight in sight.”

Jaheira didn’t like how fast was she going through this corridors, but it was necessary if she even wanted the chance to find them. The house must have been messing with their heads, either through psionics or by changing its layout. Either way, there was no way the two went too far from her and Edwina.

Passing through the next threshold, Jaheira couldn’t stop herself from stopping in the middle of the room with a mouth agape. They were back in the antechamber. The door that they came through was the one that took them to the kitchen. The way they took from the kitchen wasn’t the same with the one they traveled right now.

But that wasn’t the only change, if they weren’t perceptive they would have missed it. The antechamber was changed.

Under the small balcony, made from grey rotting wood, was a new door. She shivered. Was it from the cold or from the door that wasn’t there before? But before she could gather her thoughts, Jaheira heard a creak coming from the other side of the room.

The other door was ajar. Jaheira went towards the other side of the chamber, grabbed the warm handle and, with one hand on the scimitar, pushed. There was nobody on the other side, only the empty and dark hallway. Jaheira would have breathed easily, but she felt like something was amiss.

Turning back, there was no sign of Edwina.

“Impossible”, she whispered to herself, gritting her teeth. She searched the entire room, but it didn’t matter, Edwina was missing. Bizarrely enough the magic ball of light stayed with her, Edwina wasn’t. This wasn’t right. Jahiera inhaled hard, felling a headache coming forth.

She was right, this wasn’t just a simple haunting anymore. She needed to get upstairs, there was no way she could do this on her own.

And yet, her ears registered something. It came from behind the new door.

No. No way. But it was true.

There were whispers. Whisper of voices she knew. Mazzy. Rasaad. And also one she didn’t recognize, but it seemed familiar, somehow. Minsc, maybe? She had found the three of them…

Mission accomplished.

She could feel another headache coming. No, she couldn’t leave her, just yet. As much as she would like it. Jaheira pressed the handle and pushed.

A creak resounded in the entire chamber, letting Jaheira know that the new door opened. Behind it, there was another cold hallway, one maybe even colder than the chamber. There was something in her head, something that told her it wasn’t a good idea to go through the door, but that voice was weak, drowned by others more powerful. She couldn’t leave her friend.

Jaheira swallowed the knot formed into her throat and crossed the threshold.

Just a few steps into the corridor, and the door creaked again. In this dim light, her infravision could do little, she could barely see the door, but one thing was clear, somebody else was closing it. The door slammed shut by the time she reached it, the sound of the thunder from outside that followed, as if it came to mock her. It was useless to pull the door, it was stuck as if it became one with the wall.

With a last hit in frustration, Jaheira let go of the warm door, turning back to face the dark. There was one thing she could go, and that was to go forward, to hope she could find the others, any of the others, and especially an exit from all of this.

A shiver went up her spine, a consequence of the thought that passed through her head. She couldn’t hear any whisper, no matter how hard she strained her ears.


	5. Memento Mori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from Kamelot - Mememto Mori.

Minsc wasn’t lost. No siree, he wasn’t.

“Look, Boo”, said Minsc, passing another corner, “Minsc isn’t lost”, Minsc opened a door on his left side, entering another corridor, “Minsc knows exactly where he should go. His ears aren’t as good as yours, but even he could hear the cries of help coming from the bowels of this empty house”, Boo squeaked. “Why, yes… Yes, I should have waited for the others, you are right,” Minsc opened another door, this time a more spacious chamber, one full with wooden boxes, with a door on the other side. “But Minsc didn’t expect to get separated from them this quick, or the house to change this quick. Oh, it’s giving you a headache too, Boo?” Boo squeaked again. “Do not worry Boo!We will be fine! We are fighting for good and justice, all of us! Except Edwina and maybe Sarevok”, Boo squeaked again. “Yes, except Edwina.”

Just as Minsc was ready to open the next door, a child's laugh was heard in the room, accompanied by small footsteps. Minsc spun on his heel, eyes sharp in the search of the child. There was none. Or, at least, none visible, Minsc could hear him. Yes, Minsc could hear his giggles quite clearly. In this storeroom, the boy could be behind any of these crates.

“Here we go!” declared Minsc. “I shall find you!”

The child giggled harder, giving Minsc an easier time to track him. While the constant giggling was raising Boo’s fur, Minsc marched onward, intending to save the boy from this haunted house. Poor him scared out of his wits. No, Minsc wouldn’t let him here helpless,

“And here”, Minsc felt like this place behind the crates was his hiding place, “we goo….?” there was nobody behind the crates. “Huh…? Boo, do you –“ Boo squeaked and Minsc looked behind him, just in time to see how the boy hid behind another set of crates. “Aha, there you are!” behind them again he was not, again. “Something’s not right here”, Boo, another set of giggles and footsteps behind him. “Ok, come out and show us who you are! That’s what we say, right Boo?” Boo didn’t squeak. Boo? Boo was looking at away from where Minsc was looking.

Minsc followed Boo’ gaze until it reached its target. It was the dark corner of the storeroom. Now he saw the child, or at least his back. He was standing on his but, hugging his knees and moving back and forth. For some reason, he didn’t giggle this time and, compared to what Minsc knew of that position, and he didn’t cry.

But, as Minsc got closer to him, he could hear the whispers. It was poetry, because the words he heard rhymed. Wait, no, poetry wasn’t told on melodies. Oh, the boy was singing a lullaby! How wonderful! Minsc was ready to grab him by the shoulder when he realized something, either his torch was getting weaker or the darkness was growing bigger.

Oh, the torch was getting weaker, he now checked! Now it was time to help the child just as heroes – Wait? His torch was getting weaker?

“Uh oh”, said Minsc, when the last flames on the torch were extinguished. “Hmm, this can’t be good”, the child giggled like this was the funniest thing in the world. “Hey, it is not funny, many things could be hiding in the dark”, left in silence, Minsc wondered if it was better to let him laugh.

Boo squawked indignantly and moved through Minsc’s armor, reaching his belt and after that one of his pouches. After much wondering Minsc mind torch light up.

“Aha, Boo, you’re a genius!” Boo squeaked again. “Yes, you’re right again, we don’t have time for compliments”, Minsc pulled a flint and tinder out of his pouch. “Good for Steve for reminding all of us to hold one of these with us.”

Putting the torch on the first box he felt, with the flammable part away from the wood, Minsc started the hard work of hitting the two pieces to make a spark. They were too tiny for his ranger hands, he could barely hit them together in this darkness! And worse than that, the curse that caught Steve it was catching up to him too, any flame would die before he could Say “Buttkicking for goodness!”.

One light was strong enough to give him hope, but even that – Minsc attention was taken a robe. Not just any robe, one purple with gold highlights.

The light was dead by the time Minsc raised his head. He immediately jumped on his feet, arms forwards to feel if what he saw was true. Nothing. There was nothing there. Boo was silent too, but he was also tense, ready at any moment to jump into a pouch.

“Dynaheir?”

There was no answer from the dark, not even from the child.

This time, Minsc managed to light up the torch, but even he wondered it was even needed. He saw no child, he didn’t heard his feet, or his laugh. He must have run away when his light gave out. But Dynaheir… Was she here? Or has Minsc gone crazier from the dark?

Minsc stood a moment to think, but soon after he shrugged his shoulders and moved on. Boo squeaked softly, slowly climbing towards the top of his chestplate. Minsc pet him softly on his head. It’s all going to be alright, after all they were buttkickers of goodness, they will find out what happened.

\---

The stairs seemed to go on forever. His house back in the Government District had a height of about three to four meters, he descended more than that here. Much more than that. He told a prayer to Torm, to Helm, to Tyr, but going deeper in this hell on earth, he felt their presence less and less.

He had to admit, getting to a floor longer than his foot surprised him. So, this is the end of these stairs. Looking back up, he saw only darkness, yet couldn’t shake the feeling that the darkness wasn’t empty.

Keldorn decided to go on forward, before his gut feelings could become reality.

He has arrived in some sort of basement, from how the walls and the ceiling where made from stone bricks and mortar in an obvious, non-fancied up way. Yet, there was something familiar with these walls. It reminded him of his times as a young squire in the Order, when somebody asked him to get something from the underground storerooms.

At least those rooms were cleaner than this tunnel.

For better or for worse, at the end of the tunnel Keldorn found an old door. Trying it, he found it stuck. Not locked, thank Helm, but only stuck. Well, with the torch in hand he couldn’t just slam the door with his shoulder, so he put himself in a balanced position and hit the door, near the handle, with his heel.

With a loud bang, the door hit the wall on the other side, giving Keldorn a clear way in. Dear Torm, he said that this is like those times in the storerooms, but this chamber looked exactly like those storerooms! Keldorn rubbed his eyes, but the room remained the same, it was exactly the same as he saw it last time a long time ago, with the same crates of food and spices.

With a heart beating harder than a war drum, Keldorn made his way through the maze of crates, hoping to find the door. He could already feel the headache and the nausea this – this house brought to him. It was toying with him, he could feel it.

But his first impression slowly turned to be wrong. It might have been like those rooms, at the start, but this one started to show off its differences. Those storerooms were never this big and never could truly be compared to a real maze. So many crates, so many barrels, all were the same, literary the same crates and barrels copied to ad-infinitum.

In another situations, this would be annoying, even irritating, but being lost in the dark, with a torch illuminating only a few meters around him, and his surrounding being made of the same props no matter what direction he took. Keldorn felt like he wandered in this labyrinth for hours, even though a part of him knew that it wouldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

Keldorn spun fast back on his heel. There was nothing there, no sign of what was producing the skittering on the stone floor. He couldn’t breathe easily yet, in places like this one, there are no false alarms.

And one sound coming from the dark made Keldorn’s blood go cold. It was a squeak.. Oh, how much would he wanted it to be Boo and Minsc, but he knew it wasn’t, Tyrmora wasn’t on his side this night. This wasn’t the squeak of a hamster, no, it was one of a rat. Quickening his pace, Keldorn became aware that the sound was just the start.

Where was one, now there were two. Where were two no ether were four. Where four now eight. It wasn’t long before around him was an entire cacophony of rat squeaks, bringing forth a bigger headache than before. He needed to get out now! Now before the rats would… become quiet… Keldorn could hear the drop of a pin.

Oh, damnation!

He ran first, the stampede of thousand, maybe even tens of thousands of rats hot on his tail. Maybe it was his luck, maybe it was the house who wanted to play games with him, but the way away from these rats was an almost straight one, without branches and only corners. Rarely was something able to make this old body run this fast, dragons, demiliches, hordes of drow and demons, etc.

And faster he went when the exit came into view. He didn’t even think, he opened it and slammed the door shut behind him, using his body as a way to block the rats from coming through. The knock on the other side nearly threw him of his feet, but Keldorn resisted, pushing through every hit until they got tired or bored. He could still hear their skittering and squeaking on the other side, there was no way he could go back.

Slowly, Keldorn separated himself from the door, making sure he made the least amount of sound. He even had to force himself only to gasped when the lightning flashed and the thunder made the ground quake. But that was not all, spinning on his hell, Keldorn saw nothing in the windowed hallway.

Upon the wall, when the lighting hit, a shadow was cast. They were gone by the time he saw them, but they weren’t featureless. No, from what he saw, they were wearing either robes or dresses.

The lightning hit again, but this time the hallway was empty, no sign of the three.

Wait a second!

The realization that hit him was colder than the air around him. The Hallway, the light, the windows, he was on an upper floor. No, he was on the first floor, seeing how the windows were showing the forest. This couldn’t be just a simple illusion, not anymore at least, few were strong enough and spirits wouldn’t care to do more than bare minimum. Unless…

Either this spirit was more powerful and malicious than they thought or there is something else here, something more powerful than they thought.

Keldorn, with a face of stone, continued onwards, hoping that his heart would stop from beating so fast.


	6. Our Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from The Glitch Mob (feat. Aja Volkman) - Our Demons

Edwina wasn’t worried, not at all. But she could feel it in the air. That tense atmosphere, she was being followed from all angles, front, back, up and down.

Where in the Nine Hells did that damnable elf disappear to? She took just a moment, just a second, to check the door behind her, to see if the creak was true or just a trick, and Jaheira vanished into the dark. Damn her! Damn her and her friends!

It was no use to try to find her, the other door in this chamber was locked, the house took her to gods know were. Now, all that Edwina could do was to traverse this dark corridor in search of another door with nothing but her magic light, with her footsteps and her slow and steady breathing as companions.

Edwina stopped, she thought she heard something. Must have been the pulse in her ear, after all her heartbeat was quite strong.

No.

She heard it again. As if carried by the breeze.

Yes. There was something here, deep in the dark. A whisper, no stronger than a wind blowing through the leaves. A part of her told her not to go, it was most likely a trap. And yet, the other side won, she needed to see what was there, hidden in the dark, after all the whisper carried her name. She hasn’t seen any door in this damned corridor. It might even be her companions, whose presence she didn’t miss by the way.

At a quicker pace, Edwina continued in the hall, keeping her ears sharp for any other sounds. One in particular nearly stopped her in her tracks. It was one of a door opening. It was close, closer than the voices from before. Much closer.

It took her only a dozen steps to see the source. Yes, a door opened in this hallway. And yes, the door was opened by somebody ready to enter. Somebody that sent a shiver down Edwina’s spine.

“W-Who are…?” The red robed individual came closer to the door, stopping for a moment to fixate his or her shadow cloaked face staying Edwina. “N-No! Stop!” but she found her voice way too late. (Damnit!) the robed person turned their eyes away and entered the chamber without hesitation, closing the door behind them.

Finding her feet unfrozen, Edwina didn’t waste any time in chasing after the robed being. She threw the door open and practically jumped through. Behind the door there was nothing but a simple study. An oak desk, a few bookcases reaching towards the ceiling and a big window displaying how the storm was ravaging the forest. No sign of the Red Wizard.

Edwina sighed, a headache threatening to take over. This house… what is it doing? Moving towards the desk, she saw the presence of some kind of documents. The writing was a mess, a cursive that merged words even if they wanted or not. A decipher language might have worked, but that would have been a waste of a perfectly good spell if it was prepared.

But she wasn’t completely hopeless, a few words were legible. “Magic”, “wizard”, etc. how could she not recognize them? “S/he” “company” “Bhaal –”

What?! A wizard Bhaalspawn? One with a girdle of gender change? They were following a Bhaalspawn witch? No… something tells her this wasn’t the case. Edwina started reading the papers much more carefully.

And she wished it was her first guest. It wasn’t about a Bhaalspawn witch. No, no even close. Edwina felt a bit of cold growing in her chest, as the pieces started to arrange themselves out. This paper, this research, it was about her. They were following her. The Red Wizards were after her.

With a heavy mind, Edwina rested on the heavy oak desk, those hard words swimming in her heads like angry piranhas. What has she done to receive this hunt –

When the lighting flashed in the forest, her worst fears came true. The shadows of the robed individuals rested over her, before becoming one with the cold darkness.

Edwina didn’t dare look up. It had to be a trick. It had to be! It was the house! It must be the one doing this!

“Edwin Odesserion”, she knew the voice, back from when he was a simple acolyte. “You disappointed us. You brought shame upon the Red Wizards of Thay”, no, anybody except him! “Failure in your mission of ending the witch of Rashemen, failure in acquiring wild mages for studying, betraying your country and order”, with such a hate he snared those last words that Edwina couldn’t help but twitch. “You helped the Bhaalspawn murder many of our countrymen without care. We know you Edwin, we know what you have tried to do. You were careless, you never once thought that we might find out. Edwin Odesserion, you are sentenced to Imprisonment.”

“No!” Edwina acted without thinking, feeling the horror as the fireball left her hand. Oh, if she hasn’t angered them before, she has now. The Wizard in the middle raised his hand faster than she could think, and the fireball… stopped. Just stopped. The wizard didn’t even look at it, and the ball disintegrated into butterflies.

“You choose”, the butterflies burned to ash in the air, the light of the flames failing to penetrate the shadows of their faces, “poorly.”

Either from adrenaline or from divine miracles, Edwina jumped back before they could cast any spell. Turning back on her heel as fast as she could, Edwina froze. The door was closed shut. No, even worse, she found out after pressing on the handle. It was locked.

It was useless to pull the door, she wasn’t Minsc and she hadn’t had the time to cast a Strength spell. She had her mind on the Knock spell, but she the last thing she could concentrate on right now was casting the spell. And. even worse, he Red Wizards were advancing slowly, savoring the despair they created in Edwina.

At the very precipice, Edwina managed to speak the right words clearly and the click of the lock was as if sent from the heavens. Never once in her life she exited a room and spell locked a door so fast in her entire life. For a moment she stood stuck on the door, hoping to catch her breath, but the click of the door dashed her hopes. She ran as fast as she could in the darkness, away from the calm footsteps following behind.

\---

Being split from her friends and Edwina brought back bad memories, very bad one, ones that even to this day she hoped to lock away and never think of them again. Oh, if it were so simple, to simply forget about Him and go back to who she was before.

Imoen would lie if she said that she didn’t wish it at least once, but she knew better than that, time can’t go back. Some say she learned from it, that she became stronger, some say that she learned how to it better than war veterans.

Honestly, no one knew for sure, if the former or the later was true. Even Imoen, when asked, she shrugged and smiled, “At the very least it was over”. Life wasn’t a nightmare she couldn’t wake from anymore.

Still, some things you can’t forget. She didn’t know if there was truly something in the shadows or her imagination took her into another dark place, again, ugh. The house was haunted, so it wouldn’t be just paranoia, perhaps there was something in the shadows, something ready to attack when she was at her weakest.

Imoen inhaled slowly, she needed to be stronger. After all, she killed Him. This house is nothing compared to him, hah!

The staircase finally ended at a wooded door. Thankfully it wasn’t trapped or locked in any kind, and on the other side was just a simple grey, brick and mortar, corridor. Huh, she must have arrived in the basement, from the looks of it.

What could be in a basement now that she thought of it? Well, preserved food most likely. Old stuff people don’t want to throw away for some reason? Oh, maybe secret books collections! Oh! Oh! A dungeon maybe! Nah, this house, haunted as it is, doesn’t look like the sort who’d have a dungeon.

The first and the last door in this hallway took her to a quite nice room. Seems like one of those fancy living rooms, with armchairs and couches around a nice tiny table, a few wardrobes with fine china, a bookshelf and another couch? Sheesh, too fancy even for her tastes. Who needs two couches in a single room?

Anyway, outside of the rooms she came through, there we’re three more, one ahead, one left and one right. Ini-mini-mine-moe, catch an Aerie by the toe (under no circumstance should Aerie ever hear that), she shall go… right!

The air that hit her from the other side of the door was winter cold, Imoen couldn’t help herself from shivering and hoping that she won’t catch a cold when they finally vacated the premises. Thank Mystra that the torch was good for giving warmth and light. Ugh, she understood that this manor was abandoned for a long time, but why was it so cold? And why was the air so not stale?

It reminded her of – No, she wouldn’t think of that place. No more. Imoen shivered the thought away, there was no need for it. Also, she arrived at another door, one more welcoming than the ones before it. Look, it was even warm to touch!

The room behind it was light up! And it was warm! Yes! Oh, maybe some of her friends arrived here before her, after all they needed a place to catch their breath too.

It was just a simple storeroom, with a lot of crates full of who knows what and a table with a few chairs, but it had that air of normality, one that she wanted to see so much in this darkness.

Leaving the torch in a place that won’t extinguish it or turn this whole room into an inferno, Imoen went to explore the room, ignoring the small headache from the change of temperature. There were two doors here, other than the she came through, and – She must have misheard, on the one on the right them she heard… movement? Yeah, movement! She opened the door and –

It was like the entire world around her, the light, the heat, all that hope that she foolishly maintained shattered like an illusion. This room, this pleasant atmosphere was nothing more than a lie! A cruel, ugly lie! What was _He_ doing here!? Imoen couldn’t stop shivering, bu-but, wait!, he hasn’t seen her yet! If she keept quiet enough, if she stopped herself from shivering so much, she could leave this nightmare. Please, don’t notice her. Please, please, please –

She knew how it was to be hit by a spell, fire, cold, acid, electricity, she felt them all at least once, yet they were nothing compared to the helplessness of being under a domination spell. Imoen stopped, turned around and entered the chamber, closing the door behind her, without being able to say anything or fight.

“Ah, the child has arrived”, stated Jon Irenicus. “I have been waiting for you.”

He didn’t change one bit from when she killed him. Twice even. Same abnormally huge elf, if he could be called that, with grey skin through which his veins pulsated on some muscles that looked ready to burst out of his skin, and a horrible, horrifying leather costume, one of a sadistic executioner, making him seem taller than he already was. Even to this day, Imoen wondered if his unblinking stare was genuine or if him pulling back the skin into the metal and leather cap did more than make him look inhuman.

But, more horrifying than that was his demeanor. Irenicus was relaxed, away was his ever tense and irritated posture. Before she could vaguely think what he was about to do, his eyes were the last part someone could read, but now?

“I want to congratulate you”, even dominated, Imoen couldn’t help but widen her eyes in scared surprise, why?, “you managed to pass through the Bhaalspawn crisis and seal away Bhaal’s essence. You destroyed any chance for me to continue my plans, at least for the moment”, Irenicus looked at Imoen for a moment. “Ah, pardon me, I know what you want to say: “How?”, isn’t it. It’s simple, not even death could stop me from having my revenge.”

Irenicus signaled Imoen to come join him at the operation table, where she found a familiar corpse. There he sighed.

“It isn’t the same”, he said as he picked up a barbed scalpel. “You can’t gain the same satisfaction from a simple clone as from the real one”, domination couldn’t stop it, couldn't stop Imoen from shedding tears of fear, both for her and for her friends. “Ah, don’t you cry, child, you shall be the second when the times comes”, and with a bloody hand he wiped away the tears, leaving smudges of blood on her cheeks.


	7. Theater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from Icon for Hire - Theater

Every step in silence encompassing them was almost torture to Mazzy. All this darkness, all this silence, it brought back bad memories. To be taken one by one by the shadows or what was hidden inside of them.

She had to admit it, if it was just the darkness, she might have thought it was another Shadow Lord, but it wasn’t. It was too quiet, nowhere during those time was ever quiet. In this manor there was also an unnatural chill, one different than the one from the lack of sunlight. Only their torches made the air at least bearable.

Once this was all over, she had to thank Rasaad for being with her. Two were better than one, especially in something like this house. It didn’t matter how, illusion or something else, if you lost view of the other for even less than a second, they truly were lost. Now, have they lost the others or the others lost them?

Those question matter at the moment, they didn’t knew what were the others thinking, but there was a suspicion in the air that the objective turned towards regrouping and escaping. Of course, if whatever kept them here ever decided to let them leave.

Rasaad opened the next door, letting Mazzy enter first.

First thing Mazzy felt when entering the new room was grass on under feet. She stopped so suddenly that Rasaad nearly hit her.

"Mazzy, my friend?" asked Rasaad. "What have you found?" He looked down and saw the green blades. "Wait, grass…?"

"Seems like it", the grass felt normal, if a bit cold and wet. "Where are we?"

Her questions were answered by a lighting strike lighting the entire chamber. From what they have seen in that split second, this chamber was a greenhouse, full of trees and a battered path passing through them. But the weirdest was were the light came from, it came from a skylight high above them.

No. It wasn’t a simple greenhouse, the light didn’t penetrate the darkness deep enough to hit a wall.

The duo decided to stay near the wall behind them, going to the side until they hit the corner. Only that it wasn’t a corner that they’ve found, they found a tree, a healthy tree, tall enough to hit a ceiling that wasn’t there anymore. And going back they’ve lost more than just a wall and a ceiling, they’ve lost the exit.

"Impossible", muttered Rasaad, looking around, while Mazzy kept an eye on him. "Whatever dark force is in this manor, it likes playing with us."

"An ever bigger reason to stay close", Mazzy peered into the darkness with a mixture of fear and resolve, they went through worse. "Who knows what hides in these false woods?" Rasaad nodded. "If we’ve only had Jaheira", murmured Mazzy, Rasaad lightly chucking to himself.

For a while, the two traveled in silence, keeping their eyes and ears on the darkness while making sure neither left the other out of sight. This forest, if they could call it like that seemed to go on and on, and yet the position of the skylight remained the same. After a bit of walking, Rasaad stopped Mazzy and signaled her to look up, with him raising the torch higher.

The leaves were blowing lazily in the wind. She looked back at him with a quizzical look, what was he hinting at? Sighting lightly, he licked his finger and let the wind hit it. He shook her head and signaled her to do the same.

He had a reason for this, she knew it, so she gave him her torch and took off her gauntlet, doing the same Rasaad did. Honestly she didn’t feel anything, no wind or anything – Wait? No wind? And now that she listened, there was no rustling of the leaves as they moved.

Mazzy didn’t need to say, the look she gave Rasaad was more than enough. She understood now.

It didn’t take for them to see that their observation was itself watched. In a horrible joke by the manor, the leaves stopped moving. Now it was truly still as it was silent, like a permanent time stop. The only sound were the ones made by themselves, their steps, their heartbeats, but even them were soft, as if suffocated in the silence that surrounded them.

It came from neither of them. For split of a second, they’ve stopped and just as fast they continued on. They heard it clear as crystal, but couldn’t let the ones in the shadow know that. Or in case they knew, they could at least prepare for the moment.

But for now, they needed to traverse the still forest, in the search of a chance of an exit.

\---

As much as would Steve like to beat himself up for losing his team, he needed to have his head clear and find a way to stop this phantom, or at least find somebody, anybody, who accompanied him in this manor.

From the looks of it, he couldn’t say he had any luck. This house… whatever was in it, was something else than they expected. It was powerful, more than anything they came prepared for. How powerful? Steve walked three times in a circle with the same decorations and ended up in a different location. He wanted to go back to the bookshelf secret passage; he ended up at a door leading to a spacious hallway light up with torches.

And the hallway ended in a way he couldn’t even think to expect. He passed another corner, and couldn’t help but stop in his tracks. A pair of gigantic double doors, something resembling gate doors even, being guarded on each side by an even bigger statue of a warrior in full plate mail and face concealing helmet.

“Impossible”, Steve couldn’t help but say. And it really was, there was no way this could exist in such a simple, relatively speaking, manor.

And slowly, creaking like they haven’t been oiled for hundreds of years, one of the doors opened inwards, beckoning Steve to enter, to see what was on the other side. And how couldn’t he accept? Both out of his endless curiosity and feeling that there was nothing more behind him, the house won’t let him go back.

And onward he went, passing through the opening, without letting his eye off the statues. They seemed immobile enough, but that didn’t stop the ones from the Keep to go after him.

If the hallway ceiling was high, the one in the new room disappeared in the darkness above, even if the chamber itself was quite well light. And what a chamber it was, even. An entire theater, enough chairs for over a hundred people and a big podium, too big for simple plays like the one where they found Raelis.

And in that distraction, Steve realized that the door behind him closed only when it slammed shut with a bang. There was nobody there to close it, at least nobody on this side. Steve inched closer to the door, daring to see if maybe he could open it. His soul might not be divine anymore, but after he used them so often some of the abilities more or less latched deeper than just the taint.

But, his ideas were dashed when a thunder hit the inside of this theatre. No, not a thunder, but a thunderous applause. The podium was bathed in light, the chairs were all filled and he could feel that the play was about to start. But they waited. Waited for whom?

They waited for him. For him to take his chair and watch the play.

The walk down the aisle seemed to take forever, the continuous applause giving him a headache. Why were they still applauding, there was nobody there! Ugh, no matter how much was Steve looking at the crowd, he couldn’t make them out, their faces seemingly blending together in one pinkish-white mass

His chair was alone in front of the crowd, an entire row, just for him. He didn’t want to sit in it. Whatever the message was, he didn’t like it. And yet, he didn’t know how much could he resist this noise, was it just him or it was getting louder?

And he sat down, the clapping slowly stopping, until there was silence.

A slow melody filled the theatre, along with his or footsteps signaling the coming of the actor. Steve could barely breath, his heart beating ice cold blood through his veins and arteries. He knew this song, he knew it too well. It was something oriental, something from Kara-Tur.

One day, when they were in the Promenade, the circus managed to restart its business, filling the promenade with laughter and music. It was Aerie the one who heard it first, the slow, melodic music, coming from a stringed instrument, like a lute with fewer strings. Curious and with a friend who may know about it, Steve asked Yoshimo. And Yoshimo, true to himself, did more than simply talk about it. He talked with the bard, could they be called bards or they have their own name?, in their language and the bard gave the instrument happily to Yoshimo

Yoshimo might be exaggerating some of his exploits, but of the little bits about his life in Kara-Tur they pried off him was told with fondness. His ability to beautifully play the instrument was surprisingly unsurprising. Oh, how much would Steve wanted to have Yoshimo’s embarrassed smile immortalized, apparently he didn’t believe himself good enough to have everybody, even the bard, applaud him.

What a waste.

And here in the warm chair of the theater, Steve couldn’t help but feel like he could shatter if he shivered more from the cold inside him.

Yoshimo came unto the podium, walking until he arrived at the middle of it, right in front of Steve himself. Here he bowed once, twice, thrice and a fourth time, the last. Then he threw a look over the crowd, sparing Steve nothing more than what he gave the rest.

“Thank you!” he shouted to the crowd. “Thank you and welcome to the Tale of Two Men!” the crowd clapped with fervor, Yoshimo let them for a moment, before raising a hand silencing them. “Thank you, but let’s let the praises be at the end, eh?” chuckles could be heard from the crowd. “Very well, we shall start.”

Slow music filled the theatre, setting up the atmosphere. Yoshimo cleared his throat, and the story began.

“Long ago, in a distant land, there were a brother and a sister. Their life was happy, but their spirits were restless . The world was so big! They wanted to visit it all! The sister was the first who left the house. The parents knew their wishes, they didn’t accept them, but they knew better than anyone they couldn’t stop her, but I would lie if they let her go like that. She would come back, that was the one thing they asked of her. One day, their son will leave too, they knew that too, they knew when the time came, they would ask him that too.”

“Oh, but tragedy struck the family. Oh, the sister, oh, she had died! Oh, were the father and mother nearly struck dead by grief. Oh, was the brother angry beyond belief, who would dare kill his sister? The news swam in his head like angry piranhas on an unfortunate animal. A child of god, that’s all he heard, that was all he needed. For his sister he would kill him, for his honor called for it, his family honor called for it, the love he had for her called for it… “

“So he struck west, never knowing what would become of his parents. Farther he went, more coherent became the stories.”

“Heroes?! He, who killed his sister?! Never! And onwards he went, the fire in his heart burning brighter.”

“But, there was no need for that. Lady Luck came to him first through a wizard. If he agreed to help, he would help him, their goals were different, but, in the end, the same, revenge. And such, the brother made his second biggest mistake in his life.”

“This was the story of the first of the Two Men.”

“Once there was a child of a god among many, hidden from the world by his foster father. His life was good and nothing seemed able to change it. Oh, what naïve thinking. Everything changes, one way or another, change came to him through a brother he knew nothing about. The brother killed his father and sent his life into chaos.”

“Yet from that chaos came order, the boy swore revenge and hunted his brother, destroying whatever he build. He and his friends killed his brother and life seemed to be good. Another crisis by the lady of silver threw their life into chaos, one from which order wasn’t made.”

“And once again, by a wizard their lives were thrown into chaos. They were separated, tortured and killed. The evil wizard wanted the child divine soul, but not only his, the brother wasn’t the only child of god, his earliest friend was also a child of the same god.”

“An escape was attempted and succeeded with a price, oh, the sister was taken! One again, the child swore revenge, but this time alone and lost in a new land.”

“This was the story of the second of the Two Men.”

“The meeting was simple, they needed the help of each other. The brother agreed to help the child of god, knowing who he was. The other didn’t know. And such the two men adventured through Amn, winning money and fame, while between them grew a friendship stronger than steel. Not even the brother’s thought were able to weaken it.”

“Here he understood were he went wrong. He was a hero! He was wrong! And with a heavy heart he took them to their doom. The wizard was happy, the Bhaalspawn was in his grasp. The shouted, he cursed at the traitor of a brother, but it was no use, the deal with Irenicus included a geas, the brother could do nothing but watch as Irenicus stole the Bhaalspawn’s soul.”

“But it wasn’t over. The child survived the procedure and the asylum itself, now it was time for the two men to meet and finish this once and for all. Steve was a monster, he didn’t care that Yoshimo was under a geas, he butchered him right where we stood!”

No, that wasn’t true, Steve knew that, Yoshimo knew that, but he could help it, with the geas on, the fight was inevitable. But it was useless to scream it, because Yoshimo traced a line with his thumb over his neck and his head fell. A gasp went through the crowd.

“Yoshimo was just one of many who’s Steve presence influenced in a negative way. He might have went out easy, but what about the others?”

The head didn’t talk, the body fell. Who said that?

“He destroyed my life!” came Imoen on the stage, cut from head to toe, dressed in blood stained clothes.

“He killed us”, came Khalid and Dynaher, grey and full of deep wounds.

“He cut us down without mercy, like wheat on the field”, one by one came on stage all of his enemies, from Sarevok to Amelissan, every each one of them sporting their wounds he or his companions brought upon then.

For a second, there was silence in the theater, but everybody on the stage looked into the crowd. He could feel it, they weren’t looking at him, but they wanted to, they wanted to burn him with their gazes alone.

Then he could feel that something was looking at him from behind. He could feel their withering gazes, their cold breath on his neck. And when he felt their fingertips coming close, Steve spun his head back.

Now he saw who was in the crowd. The dead. All of those who he has killed in his travels, from monsters like kobolds and xvarts to humans and drow, each one of them still with the wound that ended their life.

“And I was the first!” came Gorion onto the stage, a grey corpse full of wounds and maggots. “I was his first murder! Without killing me, you wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t have killed you, he wouldn’t have destroyed you! He was a murdered! It was in his blood! I was the one who gave him the first taste of spilled blood. He was a murdered and I was his first victim!”

Murderer! Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!

One by one, the flames swallowed them without silencing their voices. It was only when the flames reached Yoshimo, when his body rose with the head held high, only then the voices stopped. For the first time since the “play” started, Yoshimo looked at Steve with a undecipherable gaze.

“With your blood you have spilled the blood of others. Murderer.” Yoshimo let go of his head, both it and his body being consumed by the fire before it could hit the podium.

And as it just began, the flames died out all at once, as if by a snap.

And so was Steve alone in the dark, his torch either spent or lost. But it didn’t feel like that, he could feel a thousand gazes drilling holes into him. A warm breath came onto his next, the presence of his father being almost overwhelming. He chuckled deeply and darkly.

“It’s only a matter of time”, he murmured. Who’s voice was that? “You are mine.” Oh.” You are all mine”, he laughed softly. “You will learn.” It was his.

When he left, Steve felt he just woke up from a nightmare, drenched in cold sweat and finally feeling how the pressure upon his chest disappeared. Now he was alone, no more Bhaal, no more crowd of victims, just him and him alone. Alone in the darkness.

His torch! It should be around here somewhere. He didn’t throw it away, he took it with him until the front of the crowd. Ugh, where was it?

“Here you go, my friend!” said Yoshimo, his grey, decayed hand giving Steve his torch.

“Thanks”, it took Steve half a second to register what has happened.

Imoen would never find out that Steve’s voice could jump an octave. She already has enough material already, there’s no need to give her more.

Knowing from earlier, Steve was hesitant to light up the torch, knowing what might be hidden in the dark. He already had seen the hand, he dreaded to see the entire body. He was more than just afraid, he was ashamed just at the thought of the memory. He was so angry, he couldn’t control himself. It was only when the head hit the floor Steve had seen what has he done and how much it horrified his friends, not to speak himself. At least the others believed that he was influenced by the taint.

And yet, Steve still light up the torch, he knew that his demons would haunt him again one day. Might as well confront them now. There was nobody in the shadows when his flint and tinder were just sparks, nobody when the flames were weak, nobody when the flames burned brightly. Just him and the rotting theater.

The entrance doors were as closed as before, with the knob missing. No going back, it seems. From what he found out, there were no other exits in room, except if he went…

In this darkness the podium looked uninviting, evil even, with dark red spots all over it. Some looked fresh, others became one with the wood. Steve tried his best to step over them, until he arrived in the backstage. Not even Spellhold basements held a candle to the labyrinths behind the scene curtains. Rope, bags of sand, painted backgrounds and props, there was everything except the crew and actors.

Steve stopped for moment, listening to the silence. Was he mistaken? …No, he wasn’t. The sound of rope hanging with a weight was unmistakable. He might not know much about theatre work, but weighted rope doesn’t sound like that. A drop of liquid hit Steve on the head, signaling him that it was time to move.

The deeper he went, the move convoluted the backstage became, ropes, boxes backgrounds, props and mannequins, all packed together watching him traverse to the exit. One who was finally in view. Steve wanted so much to sigh in relief, yet he knew from Imoen that it wasn’t the best idea.

His fate would be sealed the moment he said this words, but it was better to be prepared.

It all seemed too easy.

The sound of rope hanging up stopped when Steve arrived at the exit, it being replaced with a snap and a suspicious thud. Of course. His fears were confirmed, a bag of sand wouldn’t make such a distinctive sound. He didn’t wait, he grabbed the door, and it opened easily, much to surprise.

It was instinct, however, the one who made him look back when he heard footsteps in the dark. It took just one moment, just one moment, for, from inside the dark, a pair of hands ready to emerge, to grab Steve and to drag him into the dark hall.


	8. Had Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from Breaking Benjamin - Had Enough

Sarevok was sure that his knuckles turned white from how hard was he holding onto his torch and sword. He didn’t dare let it go, even since he got split up from his brother’s party. Whatever this manor was, it was unnatural in more than one way, he could feel it. The overwhelming presence, the cold air and warm objects, its ever-changing layout, either the house was alive or this haunting wasn’t as simple as they thought.

One thing for sure, this wasn’t a mimic, otherwise it would have eaten him the moment he got separated. As for a haunting, he admits he doesn’t know much. Ghost can be finicky, their death, their last thoughts, emotions, external influence, all of them could have a say in how the spirit will be.

Ignoring the crunch of something like a broken bone from kicking the door down, Sarevok entered the room expecting nothing, after all that was in the other rooms by now. And so it wasn’t like the others, it wasn’t empty. This room was warm, the fireplace was lit, and he saw a shadow in the chair in front of the fireplace.

After a brief moment of weighting his options, he chose to sheath his Sword of Chaos, if he gave the impression of peace, maybe the occupant would do the same. The torch, however, would still stay, he didn’t trust that fire.

-Hello? even spirits know more than they seem, it was better to look more naïve, an edge is better than none. Is someone there? the shadow started sobbing softly, Sarevok just narrowed his vision. Are you alright? He asked, slowly walking towards the chair.

When he was close enough, he grabbed the chair and peeked at who was sitting in it. Nobody was there, just a small cloak. And yet, the sobbing didn’t stop. Sarevok carefully scanned the room, trying to find the source before returning to the armchair. With his blood freezing in his veins, he found it, he found the source.

“Mother?” Her mother looked up to him, a thin red line showing up on her neck.

He took a step back, unable to believe what he was seeing. She looked exactly the same from when Reiltar killed her. H-How?

No! This must be an illusion! The wraith near that Bhaal temple has done the same, yet he resisted it, he must do the same here, no matter how personal the illusion!

The fireplace went out, bathing everything except Sarevok himself in darkness. And yet the sobbing didn’t stop, no, it has done the opposite, it became more hysterical. And yet, it stopped, instead being replaced by something more horrifying, the dying gasps of a persona grasping for air.

No! Not again!

Sarevok didn’t think, a headache caused by the memories leaving him unable to continue to listen to his mother being strangled again. He jumped towards the sound, his torch finally piercing through darkness finding her.

A pair of burning eyes rose to meet his. Sarevok couldn’t help himself from stopping dead in his tracks. Those eyes… Those eyes were his. His mirror image grinned and pulled the garrote tighter, cutting deep into his mother’s skin. She looked at him, raising a hand asking for help without word, but it was too late, her eyes rolled at the back of her head and stopped resisting as thin wisps of blood started dripping down her neck.

After tightening just a bit to make sure, his copy let her mother drop to the floor like a sack of rocks, and barely blocked a sword slice from a furious Sarevok.

“Who are you!?” Sarevok didn’t ask his copy. He asked the house. “Why are you doing this?!”

“I am you”, said the copy with a slight echo in its voice. “Deny all you want, but you know it’s true”, the copy caught the sword in one hand, with the other punching Sarevok in the chest. If it wasn’t for the plate, the hit would have caved his chest in, but it just threw him on the floor gasping for air, while also denting the plate. “Pathetic, I would have thought more from a Child of Bhaal. You are a murder”, the copy kicked him. “You always have been”, the copy kicked him again. “No matter how many excuses you do, you will always have the blood of murder in you. Dear mother being the first”, before he could be kicked again, Sarevok caught his foot and pulled, the copy falling hard on the stone floor.

“Who asked for your opinion?” He said with an ice cold tone. Sarevok didn’t waste any time, hard illusion or in his mind, he jumped on top of his copy and started hitting the unarmored head. The copy laughed and laughed with no care about itself, never getting weaker, until Sarevok felt how the bone broke, his fist passing through. Pulling his hand from the caved in head, Sarevok panted, feeling the cold air bit his sweat covered skin.

For better or for worse, his work was finished here. The illusion was over in its games, even if it took its time to dissipate. Sadist and powerful, whatever was in this house, if it dig that deep. Sarevok picked up his torch and sword, readying himself to leave. And yet, there was something else to do here.

“Mother”, he whispered, looking at his mother’s fake body, “I’m sorry.” He knew why Reiltar killed his mother. He didn’t condemn her, no woman would stay with that man if it wasn’t for the power and the money. He was nothing like him.

Would he disappoint her? Would have her presence change him for the better? Into somebody more like Steve? He didn’t know.

He was wasting time pondering the past, he needed to more forth and find out what is going on in this manor, regrets would come later.

And he heard that horrible laugh again. No. Impossible. The fireplace lit up again, its flames bursting out like hungry tendrils blinding Sarevok for a moment. Regaining his vision, Sarevok saw how his copy rose up in the air, its broken face mutating, stretching and stitching itself back together, getting more and more monstrous, its skin darkened like coal, moving and shifting as the bones underneath broke and reformed in long limbs and horns, leaving deep, black ichor bleeding wounds, all of it while it laughed, its voice getting deeper and gaining a deep echo, formed of many others voices, male and female.

In the end, Sarevok couldn’t help himself from feeling fear. He stood face to face with a Slayer, a killing machine. No matter how much he minced the words, he was a few steps ahead of seeing a firsthand impression of his father’s favorite past time. Murder.

The Slayer gently landed on his clawed feet, opening the dark fires of Gehenna that were his eyes.

“All of them dead”, he said, without moving his unnatural grin. “Murder by your blood.”

And he pounced like an animal. Sarevok was lucky that he avoided the sharp claws in the last moment, otherwise he would have found out where his third death will take him. He didn’t waste any more time here, he knew he was nowhere close to even hurt the beast, but to defeat it?

Sarevok ran to the door, his life on the line. Opening it, he threw himself out, slamming the door behind him and running towards the first corner. The door shattered like glass, the Slayer letting out a bone chilling laugh, and going slowly after Sarevok.

“Come out”, it called out in a sing song voice. “Come on out from wherever who are”, The Slayer turned around the corner and continued onwards. “The darkness can’t hide you forever, I can smell your fear.”

The creature lied. Or, at least, that’s what Sarevo hoped. In the worst case, it wanted to have its fun with Sarevok. He could see nothing in the dark, he could just heard the steps of the monster as it passed him. He extinguished the torch with his gauntlet, the metal having little to no heat resistance. It was a bad idea, but better than running in an ever changing maze. The beast dug his claws deep into the wall, leaving impressive marks above Sarevok’s head as it went forward.

As much as his instinct told him to run, Sarevok stayed in his place, waiting some more even after the footsteps became inaudible. The more space they had between then, the better. And it was official, he needed to find the others, for their safety as much as his.

Trying to be as silent as possible, Sarevok went in the other direction, lighting his torch only after he decided it was enough. The darkness, however, gave him the feeling that it wasn’t.


	9. Scaretale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from Nightwish - Scaretale

Aerie didn’t know how or why, but she was separated from the team the moment they passed a corner. From that moment on, she knew that the ghost that took control of this house was more than they expected. Much more.

And because they expected of something like a simple haunting or a few undead, they didn’t prepare any of the higher level spells. How? This wasn’t like them, even Edwina nodded in approval when she saw how much they’ve stockpiled in spells and potions.

But, to be fair, after what the Bhaalspawn crisis was, this looked like an easier quest. They were confident. But this darkness, this oppressing atmosphere, the quick separation, they underestimated the situation.

Aerie was already paying it through being lost in an unnaturally large manor, she could only shiver thinking about what the others could experience in this very moment. So far, she has found nothing, lavish bedroom, studies and small libraries, yes, but they were empty, yet without any dust or signs of decay.

With one hand she held the torch, the other was held close to the Mace of Disruption, just in case. Although, in the situation she found herself in, she would have preferred Crom Faeyr. Deeply in her soul, Aerie felt that whatever was in this house couldn’t be a simple spirit, no matter how old or enraged.

She tough about teleporting it in, but the manor might interfere. It has already done that with the attempts of the communication spell, who knows what it will do when transporting the hammer.

The new room she entered was different, it was reasonably lit, it looked like a storeroom with crates and barrels sprawled all around, but there was something in here she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The walls seemed like they were, yes, beating in the wind, like some sort of harder canvas. And the ceiling, looking up, the walls seemed to converge in a single dark point, yet looking just at the walls, they didn’t even give the slightest sign of bending.

She blinked once, twice, feeling how a headache was starting to form. Aerie snapped her head back from the ceiling, shaking it vigorously to get rid of the image. She continued forward, ignoring the nagging feeling of wanting to look up again.

The whisper of a voice made Aerie hide behind one of the crates. Some would ask why, others would do the same, after all this was the first presence she met in the manor after splitting up from the party. She didn’t know if they were friendly or not, the best option was to wait and observe.

They were getting closer and their voices were becoming clearer. No, not clearer, louder, she couldn’t understand a single word they were saying. Their language was bizarre, more like a garble of sounds than anything else. She could try to cast an understand language, but she didn’t dare in case she would be caught and she had a feeling that it wouldn’t do her any good.

Though, standing one with the crate brought her an annoying back ache. That was new. She tried to silently stretch, but she stopped dead in her tracks after just one tilt. Her back was wet. The wood wasn’t wet, she hasn’t sweated that much, and there was nothing here to wet her. Aerie brought a shaky hand towards her back, towards where her scars were and – She slapped herself, the soft ache became a throbbing pain, one with a clear source.

Aerie pulled back her hand, and stared wordlessly at the blood covering it. How? They healed a long time ago, they shouldn’t hurt, and she couldn’t even think of them bleeding. And yet, here they were, doing what they were expected not to do.

Another wave of pain hit her full force, and Aerie couldn’t help herself from crying in pain. She slammed her palms on her mouth, but it was too late, they stopped talking. Knowing her position was compromised, Aerie started sneaking towards another crate, hoping that she had learnt enough from Imoen.

She didn’t manage to find out. The next crate in front of her exploded in a shower of wood and splinters. She took a step back, in front of her arriving a true abomination. The first thing she put her eyes on was the hand, if she could call it that. No, instead of a right hand there was something only Irenicus would have thought of, a saw made of flesh, fangs and bone shards. Next was its face, or, better said, the lack of it. No eyes, but the brow, a nose, but no nostrils, no mouth, but a chin.

Aerie could only stare at the thing in shock. What? Just what was that?

The creature talked, its dark tongue giving Aerie a headache worse than the pain on her back. She was about to have a bad time, she knew it, all while her stomach protested against everything . She ducked, the serrated bone blade from the other monster passing over her head and hitting a big crate.

This brought Aerie out her shock, right now she needed to defend herself, she could wonder what they were at a later time. At the start, It took Aerie a while to get used to a mace, but it was worth it. In one move, Aerie got the Mace of Disruption and smacked it over the faceless head of the monster in front of her.

A solid hit, the head going left in a lethal angle, letting out a sickening crunch. Aerie twitched a bit at the sound, but seeing the monster take a step back ready to fall was more than enough.

Except it didn’t fall.

The creature regained its footing and spun its head back with a second wet crunch.

Stuck between a blade and a saw, Aerie knew she had no chance. She smacked the first monster upside in his limp head, and ran away as fast as she could. There must be an exit from this accursed storeroom. It didn’t matter what, as long as it took her away from the creatures to think and breathe freely.

When the garble of a language sounded close, she knew the monsters were close, but she was no closer to an exit than before.

It was just her luck that she had finally found a door, one over a wall of boxes and crates. It wasn’t too big, she could easily climb over it, especially since she came in elven chainmail and pants. By the time she arrived at the top, so had have arrived the faceless monsters at the base.

One tilted his head, the others moved his broken neck, and started to break the wall of crates with their bladed hands, destabilizing it the pile. Aerie could barely stand, the crates swinging back and fro too much for her liking. Knowing her options were limited, Aerie jumped, her knees taking the brunt of the impact, but still staying strong.

Ignoring the pain and the boxes ready to fall, Aerie passed through the exit.

And arrived to a cacophony of sound, one nearly deafening her after all that silence. Aerie found herself in a large circle like in an arena, with thousands of people making up the crowds. Wait, no, it wasn’t an arena, it was a circus. She wasn’t alone, there were clowns, with their empty faces painted, trapeze gymnasts up on the ropes, men juggling throwing knives one with another and men with swords ready to swallow.

All of them turned towards her, all of their empty faces, while the crowd was in uproar. The new attraction came, just like in the old dark days.

Aerie wanted to laugh. Of course! A circus! The place from where her life could have just as well ended! Quayle might have helped a lot, Steve and the others even more, but Aerie couldn’t lie when she said that the time in the circus was one of the worst in her life. Enslaved, humiliated, crippled!

Even Aerie surprised herself when she blocked a knife with the mace.

No. She couldn’t let herself to be consumed by anger, especially not now. The circus brought back bad memories, yet it had some good ones too, Quayle, Steve, seeing the smiles of kids in the crowd. She wouldn’t let this sick parody of a circus get to her!

Aerie ran through to the other side, smacking the knife thrower before he could throw another one towards her. The crowd booed in unison, creating a dizzying echo in Aerie’s head, more than enough for the sword swallower to spit his sword at her thru a gaping bloody maw in the formerly featureless face.

She ducked in the last moment, bringing the mace hard in the chin, breaking the hole as retribution. From high up fell the gymnast to what seemed like their death, but soon they rose once again crawling after Aerie like inhuman human spiders. She ran away from them before she could find out firsthand what they could do.

And promptly ran into the clowns, all of them just staring at her with their painted featureless faces as she walked through. The farther she went, the more clowns were there, their paint slowly giving away to more visible features. The crowd was laughing as always deeper and deeper, more and more distorted, fusing more and more in a formless mass of flesh and bone and limbs, as she traveled, her stomach churning as if it was ready to vomit itself out. No! She needed to go forward! Past the clowns whose eyes were black as starless nights, who had no nose, but deep holes, whose mouth were open in ripped grins with needle thin teeth.

Aerie could barely stand, she immediately had to rest of the warm wood, preferring the cold air that permeated the circus. Then, opening an eye, she realized what was she in front of. She turned back on her heel, and, with a killer head ache, Aerie searched for a handle, all the while staring back the army of monsters dressed as clowns.

The door opened outwards, Aerie falling back into the dark, with the door closing back on itself. At least, Aerie could let go of that breath she held for far too long. She escaped from that mockery of circus. She couldn’t wait to finish this, the ache on her back started to lessen, but the blood remained. Eh, a problem for a later time.

Getting up, Aerie was surprised that the torch was still lit, especially after all that has happened. Sighing, she picked it up, ready to continue exploring when she realized something horrible, this was a dead end. Three black walls and a door that didn’t open anymore.

Aerie hit the door with all her might, but all she managed to do was to stretch it out like it was a piece of rubber. Aerie took a step back as the door started to pulse like a spasming muscle, hitting the back wall, one that was closer than before. All the walls were getting closer, twitching like as if under electrical curent, ready to crush Aerie, that if the burning liquid coming off them wasn’t going to get her first.

She needed to get out of here and fast, her time was running out the more she stood thinking. She hasn’t prepared any high level spells, her mace was too weak to break anything and she didn’t know if she could transport Crom Faeyr to her in here.

The wall managed to make contact, its liquid burning Aerie worse than acid and fire combined, it might has well started to eat her.

Wait! Fire!

Ignoring the burning pain, Aerie concentrated. She might have haven’t prepared any high level spells, but if she polled enough energy into these spells, all would work. She had one chance to do this, otherwise goodbye world. Well, it was time to make Neera proud.


	10. Cruel Devotion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from Night Club - Cruel Devotion.

The floor shook. Then the house creaked as if it was in pain, but it stopped just as soon as it has begun. Jaheira stopped for a moment to stare at the ceiling, asking herself if it was a good or a bad sign. Jaheira felt a cold shiver go through her spine, whatever went up there, if was something big. She needed to be careful, especially now, especially with this infernal headache coming forth.

She continued onward, the ball of light keeping the darkness away. Most of the doors in this corridor were open, and behind them were the same rooms with small variations, here a bookshelf, here another table, here another color, etc. Although, one thing worried her, she found herself walking a lot, a lot more than what would normally be in a mansion.

And, finally, she reached the end of the hallway. No door in front of her, but one on the left and one on the right. She went right, entering a simple bedroom, a bed, a wardrobe and a table with a chair. Nothing special here too, it seems. Jaheira turned to leave, but she caught something with the corner of her eye. There was something on the table.

It was a piece of paper with something written on it. Jaheira picked it up and skimmed over the contents. Impossible! It was Gorion’s letter to her and Khalid, his last wish for them to them care of Steve. She read it again, this time slower. It couldn’t be! But it was… And it couldn’t be a forgery either, they took the letter with them until their kidnapping by Irenicus.

How did this get here?

Jaheira’s raised her head from the letter, seeing Gorion at the table, his eyes hidden by the dark. Jaheira shook her head hard until she felt dizzy. No, there was no Gorion at the table.

Jaheira rubbed her face tiredly, feeling the how the headache started getting worse. She looked again at the farewell letter, one calling for her to take care of Steve, and crumpled it, before throwing it away. There was something unnatural with it, she could feel it

Rubbing her temples, Jaheira turned towards the exit, trying to ignore the cold air that seeped into the room.

“Jaheira…”, for many, it would have been nothing more than a breeze, but her half-elven ears heard the whisper. Someone in the dark was calling her. Edwina maybe? She had behind her before being separated by the darkness. And yet she had her doubts that the Red Witch would call for help from any of them, even less from her.

Jaheira exited the room, looking carefully left and right in case she might find where the noise came from. Edwina’s magic light ball helped her, but, even then, the darkness was as impenetrable as it has ever been.

“Jaheira?” There! Now she heard it better. She began to slowly go deeper into the dark, the ball of light loyally following her. There! In front of her, the light has revealed something, the shape of a tall man covered in shadows. But, ah, unfortunately enough, he ran away with a surprising speed before could Jahiera see who it was.

He was fast, but that didn’t mean he was quiet. The corridor seemed to be straight, or at least without too many splits. The man stopped from time to time, either to catch his breath or to see if she was still on his tail, but he resumed his sprint when she got too close.

“Stop!” she didn’t worried she might have been a bit too harsh, it didn’t matter, she was getting tired of running after a shade in the dark. “I won’t hurt you if you shown yourself.” _I won’t promise that I wouldn’t protect me, though,_ she thought afterwards.

“Jaheira? That voice… “Is that you?” No! Impossible! The last time she saw him… The last time… She couldn’t bring herself to say it, but it seems that now she can’t even think about it without bringing forth a wave of pain in her skull. “Oh! It really is you!”

Out of the shadows, Khalid stepped out, with no scar or cut decorating his body. The rational part of her brain told her to pull out her scimitar and protect herself, this had to be a trap, but even that part was drowned out by his presence. Jaheira could feel herself mentally melt, it was true, Khalid was back.

Khalid smile sheepishly and opened his mouth, as if he has heard the question running in Jahiera’s mind.

“Wh-When the fight with I-Irenicus ended and the Promenade started its repairs, his laboratory was found mostly i-intact. They’ve found me! They’ve found Dy-Dynaheir! They brought us b-back to life”, his jovial attitude turned darker for a moment. “But we couldn’t find you. Y-You were always o-on the run.”

“I-I’m sorry, but we had to!” Jaheira finally found her voice. “We’ve had to save Imoen and to stop Irenicus, as fast as possible!”

“I’m not condemning you, or them, he added as an afterthought. But it took us too long, too long to find you again, Jaheira.”

“But you did”, Jaheira inched closer to Khalid.

“But I did. And I don’t want to ever leave your side again”, Khalid suddenly hugged Jaheiera. She thought for a moment to chide him again for dying, but that could come later, now she needed to stay here, in his warm and soft embrace, for as long as possible.

Suddenly, Khalid turned stiff, and swiftly twisted his head backwards. Jaheira split off from the embrace and pulled out her scimitar, sitting at Khalid’s right side as he twisted the rest of himself forward. He barred his teeth, letting out a sound she could not hear, only feel.

“Khalid, what did you find?”

Her question was answered by a the ceiling a few meters behing them breaking apart, a disheveled Aerie falling down from the hole with a painful thud.

“Aerie!” the elf didn’t hear her, but at the very least she was alive. She raised herself on her elbows with a pained grunt. Battered and hurt, but alive. “Aerie? Child?” aerie brute forced herself upright, using Crom Faeyr – huh, how hasn’t she seen it until now? – as crutch. “Come”, Jaheira grabbed Khalid and brought him closer to Aerie, they couldn’t leave her like that on her own.

It happened so fast that Jahiera couldn’t react to it. Aerie raised her head towards the two of them, an unreadable expression decorating her bloody face. Aerie hit Khalid hit the hammer harder than she hit Amelissan, hard enough to break his neck like it was of paper and to throw hit into the wall hard enough to dent it, probably breaking enough bones to pulverize his organs.

Jahiera didn’t think, all she saw was her husband’s broken body and red. Blood red. Now it was Aerie’s turn to barely react. She had any time to block, Jahiera’s hits coming fast and ferocious, leaving her no time to think. But, compared to MInsc, she was getting slower, her strength lessening, she was tiring herself in wanting Aerie’s death.

And when Aerie found her opening, she used in without mercy. With one punch, Jahiera went down like a sack of rocks.

“Argh, why you little – “Jaheira put a hand on her jaw, it wasn’t broken, but it will surely leave a bruise. “Look! She pointed towards Khalid’s corpse. Look at what you have done to him! We could – AHH!” Jahiera could honestly say that a few things managed to scare her, one of them were those nightmares during the first nights after they escaped from Irenicus’ dungeon.

This was one of the nightmares made flesh. Whatever spell had the house brought on her, it was broken, but in the most horrifying was possible. Yes, there on the floor lay the broken and bent corpse of Khalid, but it wasn’t fresh, it was like the when she saw him in that dungeon.

Grey, but not rotting, cut to the bone, but not bleeding, eyes wide open, but no spark of life in them. She wanted to cry, to scream, to cling to Aerie like she was her salvation, but she was too shocked to even move.

And then the corpse moved. Its bones creaked, putting itself in a quadrupedal position, with the torso looking upwards, its neck twisting and moving until it was backwards and looking up to them. It snarled and jumped – Into the dark, its steeps getting fainter and fainter until they disappeared.

Only then was Jaheira was able to swallow the knot that was formed in her throat and pull herself up. Aerie was still looking deep into the dark almost daring it to come with something better –

Dear Silvanus, what happened to her?! Her body was wracked with burns, of the acid and fire variety. Her armor seemed to have took the brunt of whatever she fought, it was full of holes, it was halfway melted and bent in places, making it useless, if not making things worse.

And then she let herself at ease, collapsing right where she stood while a faint sizzling sound filled the hallway. Wait, sizzling? She saw no smoke, so she wasn’t burning.

The acid!

Aerie could forgive her later.

Jaheira conjured more than enough water to drench Aerie and to wash out the acid, but at the very least the sizzling stopped and Aerie seemed to relax a bit.

“Child, what happened to you?” Jaheira didn’t need to say any of the words, the spell was ready to heal her. But Aerie slapped her away quickly, she hadn’t lost the spell, but it was interrupted for sure. “What are you doing?! Do you want to die? Have you took a look at yourself? Let me heal you and help find the others.”

“It won’t work, I’ve tried”, Aerie straightened herself, her face betraying what she was feeling. “The spells have no effect on these wounds”, Aerie made an expression of pain. “Thank you for the water. You have no idea how much it helped...”

“I have so many questions”, stated Jaheira.

“And I don’t have all the answers you need”, Aerie grunted. “We have to move. I’ve annoyed enough to make it careless”, Aerie came closer to Jaheira. “We have to find the others while we still have the time”, she whispered. “It still wants to play. Stay close and trust me!”

Aerie stepped back and turned on her heel, ready to leave, waiting only for Jaheira to follow her. Jaheira looked at Aerie from head to toe, resisting the urge to sigh and shake her head. The girl has been through something else compared to her and, probably, the others, but as much as she wanted her to take it easy, she had a feeling Aerie became the most prepared one to deal with this mansion.

Jaheira nodded and started following Aerie, making sure that she stayed close to the elf.

“Wait.” Aerie turned back and smashed the ball of light, it bursting like a balloon full of water, while something moved with high speed in the air. “It made a lure for you. No, wait, not a lure. Just the light.”

Jaheira couldn’t help but feel unnerved by what was Aerie mumbling about. Who was this it? And for the love of Sylvanus, could she make another light!?


	11. The Phantom Agony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from Epica - The Phantom Agony

For a second, the grassy floor shook. It wasn’t strong, more as if someone stepped hard on a plank. What happened next, however, was much worse.

It started as a creaking, like a branch moving too fast in the wind, ready to fall. It wasn’t just a branch. The trunks of the trees, their branches, all pulsated and spammed as if they were in immense pain. And, as sudden as they begun, they stopped. The forest swelled for a moment, then returned to their normal size, as if they released a breath they held too much in.

Unnerving couldn't even begin describing the scene in front of them.

“By Selune…”, Mazzy couldn’t help but nod at Rasaad’s murmur. Only gods could understand what has happened here.

They couldn’t let go of the surprise by themselves, the footsteps on the grass did it for them. It came from ahead of them. It was something fast. Actually if she squinted hard, she could see a shape in the dark. She thought she can make more of him if she keeps her attention on –

“Impossible”, gasped Rasaad.

“What? What did you see, Rasaad – Rasaad!” To Mazzy’s horror, Rasaad ran away into the dark, his light torch all but forgotten. “Rasaad!” She after called him once more, but it was too late, the darkness has done its job, it has taken Rasaad.

She thought to run after him, but it would be useless, who knows how far he went and in which direction? For once, damn her short legs and damn Rasaad. What has he seen in there that made him flee like a maniac?

A growl was more than enough to interrupt her thoughts. Wolves, most likely if they were out in the forest. Not that much of a problem not that much of problem out there. And yet, in here… In the back of her head, deep in her soul, that growling made her heart pump cold blood through her chest.

“Mazzy…”

No, no, no. It was the breeze. It must have been the breeze. She has heard that in the dark the mind may play tricks on the mind, and let’s not mention the haunting of the manor.

“Mazzy.”

Mazzy pulled out her sword out of the scabbard faster than she could think and spun on her heel, ready to cut think apparition in half. All that she hit was air. No sign of the shadow that whispered in her ear.

The forest was unusually quiet, as always, and yet Mazzy could help but feel that the malicious presence was still watching her closely. She could feel its dark breath freezing the back of her neck, her hair slowly moving back and fro.

“Show yourself, demon!” This wasn’t the best idea, she knew it, but what else could she do? At the very least, the breathing on her neck stopped.

“Mazzy”, no, why was he using his voice, “we are here. We’ve always been here”, Mazzy inhaled deeply, dreading what was about to come, and turned around. She was alone in the dark, the light of the torch just confirming it. The chuckles that resulted were even worse. “Maaazy, we have always been with you”, a cold hand landed on her shoulder, “in the shadows, waiting” a second hand landed on the other shoulder “to take you back.”

Again, Mazzy spun on her heel to cut whatever was behind her. Again, she hit nothing. But, this time, not because she was alone in the dark. The shadow stepped back in the last moment, her light breaching through just enough to reach Patrick’s rotten corpse. The cadaver grinned and retreated even deeper into the dark.

Around her, began the growling. It started as one, the two, then four, until she felt like she was surrounded. The hundred pairs of white orbs in the darks just confirmed it.

Outnumbered and outgunned, Mazzy knew that a fight would be lethal, and knew far too well what would happen if she fell here. So, instead, she threw her the torch away and ran as fast as she could.

That seemed to help, at least a little, she surprised them enough to give her quite a head start. Then the growling, loud and ferocious, started once again. And so she ran through the woods, bushes and grass, feeling how the beast were getting closer and closer towards her. She could barely see what was in front of her, dodging the forest moments before she could hit them.

And then she stopped behind one of the trees. The beasts continued onwards, snarling all the way. Mazzy kept her breath slow and steady, careful to not attract any attention. Slowly, but surely, the horde thinned and disappeared in the dark. Too easy, she thought, but at least it gave her a moment to think freely.

Mazzy let herself rest on the trunk of the tree, nearly sinking in the comfort of soft wood.

Soft wood?

Mazzy couldn’t help herself from gasping loudly, wood should be as soft as a calishman pillow!

Mazzy slapped her mouth, cursing herself silently for making such a mistake. There was no noise in the air, they haven’t heard her, probably. She raised herself from the trunk, slowly looking around for any sign of the beast before deciding to leave. She had no idea where to go or where she is, but at least it would be better than standing around like a freshly painted target.

\---

It was simply impossible. He was left in the Shadow Plane. He should have been dead! But there was no mistake, Rasaad, even in this abyssal darkness could recognize him.

“Alorgoth! You coward!” Rasaad almost roared. “You can’t run forever!” But no matter how much he was pushing himself, Rasaad couldn’t catch up. “Stop and face me!”

Rasaad stoped. The forest was silent. That could mean two things.

“Heh, if so you wish.”

And again silence. Rasaad could hear his heart beating like a war drum. Monks like him could be as quiet as they wished, but this was too much. A bead of cold sweat went down his forehead leaving skin more sensitive to the cold air.

A brief breeze passed, barely audible even to the best elven ear. Rasaad raised a hand to block, but the kick was strong enough to push him back two steps. Alorgoth stopped, giving Rassad the time to rub the soreness from his arm.

Just looking at Alorgoth made Rasaad’s eyes hurt. He couldn’t quite explain what he saw, Alorgoth was ... blurry. Not as if under a blur spell, more like he himself was made of smoke, a thick fog made human form.

“I have to thank you, Rasaad yn Bashir”, Alorgoth turned to think black smoke and crossed the distance between the two faster than Rasaad could, him just barely jumping back. “Jumpy, aren’t we? You brought me closer to Shar, you brought me closer to the shadows.”

“Impossible! How did you escape, Alorgoth? We left you no way of escaping! There was no way to escape!”

“I am Shar’s most trusted servant”, Alorgoth began emanating a black aura, one resembling something like dark flames. “My changes, my survival in the Shadow Plane just impressed her more. This is why I have to thank you”, with a swipe of his hand, Alorgoth threw a thick black smoke.

Rasaad dodged, the smoke hitting the tree behind him and leaving deep scorch marks. Alorgoth then threw a punch towards Rassad, again dodging in the last moment. Asking Selune for protection, Rasaad threw a fast punch, hitting Alorgoth in the ribs. For a moment, Rasaad thought his fist would pass through, his form too incorporeal, but he hit true.

Made of darkness, his Sun Soul training had its effect, the light hurting Alorgoth and throwing him on the forest floor. Rasaad didn’t wait for him to get himself up, he jumped up with a kick to the head. Alorgoth changed into smoke, regaining his form just in time to catch Rasaad’s kick. Rasaad wasn’t discouraged, he was ready to hit him with another flaming fist, when Alorgoth changed again, unbalancing Rasaad and leaving him open to a devastating punch in the face.

All that Rasaad knew after was that he was on the forest floor, quite a distance away from Alorgoth. And with a misty step, he crossed that distance, picked up Rasaad and hit him once again with inhuman speed. And again. And again. And again, this one in the stomach, leaving Rasaad without air. He didn’t want it, but his body fell on his knees, just for him to be hit in the face with a knee, shattering his nose.

“Amazing”, the sarcasm could cut a mithril plate. “You survived. Not for long, I fear”, Alorgoth put his foot on Rasaads chest and pressed. Rasaad grunted and grabbed his ankle, pouring power into a ray of pure sunlight. Faster than Rasaad could think, Algoroth once again smashed his palm in his face, but not before the Sun monk cut off his foot. Powered by adrenaline, Rasaad jumped back to his feet, ready to fight once more.

Alorgoth regained his balance, and, before Rasaad horrified eyes, regrew his foot from the shadows he was made from. Alorgoth looked back at Rasaad, a huge, inhuman and white as the moon grin appearing on his shadowed face.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” and now Alorgoth forsake everything related to human appearance except the form, nothing more than a creature of darkness and shadow was standing before Rasaad. “Too bad this will be the last time you shall see me. Until then – “, the creature stopped, its grin getting somehow larger, as if it had an idea. “There is somebody you might like to see you again.”

Alorgoth grew in height and length. Rasaad took a step back, but Alorgoth did not. He stood still, grinning and staring at Rasaad until his abdomen swelled and swelled until the shadows parted for a dead man.

“Gamaz?” Rasaad couldn’t help himself from shaking, not after he saw his brother’s dark eyes.

“Hello”, Gamaz put himself into a battle stance, “brother.”


	12. Out of Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from Skillet - Out of Hell

“No, Boo, I’m telling you, you have nothing to fear”, Boo squeaked in indignation. “Well yes… you’re right, we have things to worry about, one being in a haunted house”, Minsc opened another door. “But Minsc assures you, as much as Minsc would like, Dynaheir has died, oh, his former witch has died”, Minsc sighed deeply. “But she wouldn’t be a ghost, why would she?” Boo squeaked and Minsc frowned sadly. “Oh, Boo, you are too right.”

Minsc continued his journey through the endless room in silence, his mind going back towards what Boo said. But even then, a thought was eating Minsc on the inside.

“Boo, I do wonder though”, Boo squeaked. “Why would Dynaheir come back only now?” Boo opened his mouth, but he didn’t squeak any sound. “See, Boo? Murdered spirits don’t wait, they strike when they are at their angriest, but Dynahier didn’t strike, either at Minsc or at Irenicus. So it wasn’t Dynaheir! See?” Boo stayed silent for a moment, and squeaked. Minsc stopped and rubbed his chin. “Good question. What could take Dynaheir’s form here?” Hmm, Boo squeaked. “No, no, the mind flayers would have attacked Minsc’s delicious brain by now”, Boo squeaked again.” Hmm, I don’t think mimic can copy humans. Aha! A doppelganger!” Minsc exclaimed, but immediately deflated when Boo squeaked. “Hmm, yes, you are right, Boo. They aren’t this careful… An extradimensional beast with powerful psionic powers?” if one with a careful ear could think that Boo squeaked something resembling to “really?”, they would be right. “Heh, you’re right, that’s too much even from Minsc.”

Minsc opened the next door, waited politely for Aerie and Jaheiera to pass, he himself then going the way they came from. Minsc stopped for a moment, asking himself if he should have said hello, but the girls looked occupied, they probably wouldn’t have heard him. He shrugged and continued towards the next door when he heard something like the breaking of bones.

Oh, it was Aerie, breaking down the door with Crom Faeyr.

Huh, Minsc didn’t know he was such a good teacher, he didn’t even know that Aerie wanted to be such a berseker, she looked the part.

“Friends! How are you?” Jaheira was looking well, rolling her eyes like always, Aerie looked – “My witch! What happened to you? Oh, whoever did this will receive the biggest buttkicking of justice in the whole world! I swear it on Boo!” Boo squeaked in agreement.

Even through the constant burning sensation dancing on her skin, Aerie could help but smile.

“It’s good to see you again, Minsc”, Minsc could see how Jaheira’s lips twitched slightly upwards. “I would tell you need a bigger sword for that, but I’m afraid you might really consider it”, murmured Jaheira.

“Whaaaat? Minsc hasn’t heard you well”, he asked, while Aerie giggled.

“Nothing”, she lied. “Just thinking about where the others might be.” _And I might be staying too much time near Edwina_, this time, she didn’t voice her thoughts.

“Minsc, has anything unusual happened to you?” asked Aerie.

“Hm, no, no really. But I’ve had to play with the ghost of a child, but he was a naughty one, he extinguished Minsc’s torch. Afterwards, when we tried to relight it, we thought we saw Dynaheir”, Jahiera stiffened, inhaling sharply, “but it couldn’t have been her ghost, she wouldn’t attack Minsc or his friends, that I know! Well, unless we desecrated her corpse, but not even in our worst nightmares would we do that, right Boo?” Boo squeaked in agreement.

“Well”, Aerie started while she and Jaheira shared a look of confusion, “good to know?” Minsc nodded

“And now, where shall we go?” asked the ranger

“After the others”, said Aerie. “While we still can.”

\---

Keldorn had the feeling he was being followed or watched for a while. It was nothing new, this feeling was familiar to him, but, in a way, the manor had its own threatening air. One, Keldorn was sure that he was never watched from all sides, and two, during those times he could see them back.

Lightning once again light up the whole hallway, revealing the door at its end. The first and the only door he saw since he set foot in here. Keldorn looked a second at the door, asking himself what might be on the other side. He decided to press his ear on the warm wood.

Nothing. It was quiet.

Wait! No. it wasn’t. There was something weak on the other side, something like a whistle. No quite, more like… a boiling kettle.

Keldorn pulled back his ear. It was clear that something wasn’t alright here. This part of the manor was surprisingly clean, no dust or cobwebs, only the sign of decay. And, yet there was no sign of somebody living in this house, no torches were alight, all the bedroom were the same, decayed, but unused, and there was a all encompassing silence, even the best house in Akthantla was creaking from time to time, nothing like that here.

And now, out of nowhere, there was a sign of life, a kettle boiling in the belly of a haunted house.

Keldorn opened the door, first taking a good look at the insides if he could and then opening it completely – Keldorn nearly dropped his torch in shock. The light inside was more than enough for him to recognize that red wallpaper chosen by Maria when they first bought it. What was his estate doing in this manor?!

Keldorn entered the room, his eyes jumping on every single detail he could see. It was a flawless copy, even to the smallest trinket Leona and Vesper forgot on a stand. Wait, no, it wasn’t flawless, the wall facing the door had no pattern. And as he came close, Keldorn could see it was also a darker color, a dark red, almost brown. He swiped his finger on it, a part of it flaking down revealing a more familiar color.

“Blood”, murmured Keldorn as he crushed the flakes. A whole wall painted in blood. This wasn’t truly his house, but just seeing this done, it was impossible to not feel something cold forming in his chest.

And once again Keldorn heard the whistle of a kettle boiling. The house was empty, but he still couldn’t shake that feeling that something was following him. This feeling was a familiar one, being watched by someone he could also see. They were here, right beside him even, but he couldn’t find them. One True Seeing could reveal them, but not now, let them have the supposed element of surprise.

It was coming from the kitchen, obviously. Over the fire stood the kettle, the steam coming out of in a continuous stream, whistling loudly. But, ugh, as he came closer, a horrible smell attacked his nostrils. Sweet, salty and metallic. The closer to the kettle!

Keldorn immediately took of the fire putting it on counter, ending its infernal whistling and easing the smell a bit. Kedlorn took a step back, taking a fresh breath, and taking another one when he realized that the kettle was alone. There was flesh on the counter, fresh flesh. He went a few times to a butcher but this wasn’t like any cut he has seen.

Just what was butchered here?

Wait. No, not what, the blood on the wall, the metallic smell, the flesh. Who? Who was butchered here?

Keldorn could feel his blood getting colder in his veins when a woman started sobbing. It came from his bedroom. No. No! This was just an illusion from the haunting. And yet, Keldorn hasn’t realized his feet had their own mind until the torch light hit the back of the woman sitting on his bed. She dressed in a thin gray cloak full of holes, Keldorn could only hope that this wasn’t who he thought to be.

“Maria?” He reached out to her, just in time for him to realize her sobbing turned strange, as if she started giggling. Then, she fell off to the side of the bed. Immediately Keldorn ran to her, but all that he found was nothing, no sign of her.

“Keldorn”, she said in a sing-song voice. “You have come, my dear”, the paladin turned around, again finding no sign of his wife, just the caressing of a cold hand coming from behind, far too late. Keldorn pulled out his sword towards whatever was imitating his wife, but it already took a big step back, letting him finally see her face

It was exactly like her, same hair, same chin, nose, eyes. And yet it was also wrong, so so wrong, her skin was pale, almost grey, her smile was large, open, revealing two pointy canines, her dress was black, reaching to the floor becoming one with the darkness, while her cloak seemed to be made of mist. One word came into Keldorn’s mind.

“When you were gone, gone away, they came”, Maria giggled madly. “She brought us time, time to hide the girls, time to get eaten”, she started sobbing again. “It didn’t matter, they found us. They wanted them, I gave myself. For them. Always for them”, then she started giggling, looking staring at Kedlorn with tears of blood. “They accepted. You weren’t there!” She shouted. “You weren’t there to save us. Never were. Always away so save the others, but not the one near you”, Maria giggled louder than ever, and Kedlorn couldn’t help but feel like he couldn’t breathe. “They were sweet. So sweet and tender.”

His chest started tightening, he couldn’t – couldn’t breathe. He looked straight at Maria, but he couldn’t see her. Leona! Vesper! No! It couldn’t be true! He didn’t fail them! He didn’t fail them! He didn’t fail them!

Then he felt two pinpricks in his neck. What? Everything was hazy, like the world was in fog even when the air was clear. He turned his head to the left – Oh, it was just Maria. Yes, Maria. He’s home, there was nothing to worry about. Oh, by Torm, he needed to rest, never he felt this weak before. Well, just one time, he was careless and the vampire –

Was it a reflex or did Kedlorn came back to his senses? It didn’t matter, the result was the same. A smell of burnt hair and flesh combined with the most demonic screech, second only to a banshee.

His neck was wet and warm, his vision was clouded, but he could still hear the roar. He could fight, he had the Holy Avenger with him right here – Damnation, no he didn’t, it was the same hilt. He left it back at the Keep, they didn’t expect this, they expected only a simple haunting.

Keldorn ran away from this nightmare, back from where he came, slamming the door behind him. She was laughing hard, laughing at him, him the coward, him who couldn’t save his family. Keldorn ran and ran as the manor shook around him until his feet became numb, until the mad laughter of his wife became nothing but a horrifying memory, until he found another light up room, this one having a warmer, more welcoming presence.

Closing the door behind him, Keldorn collapsed on the first crate his eyes fell upon. He put a hand on his neck, feeling it a big hole. By the Nine Hells, she didn’t just bite him, she ripped a big chunk of his flesh! How? …

Oh, right. When he burned her. He was lucky. She didn’t rip the vein or the arteries, otherwise he wouldn’t have even escaped that room. But he needed to act fast, he could barely think, he was so tired, he needed to do something now!

Making sure he didn’t break the neck of the bottle by accident, or at least not in a sharp angle, Keldorn downed the content of the healing potion like water. He could feel its effects taking place immediately, taking some of the pain and dizziness away. He’s lost a lot of blood, the potion wasn’t enough to fully heal him, but at least he won’t be dying from shock.

He arrived in a simple storeroom by the looks of it, one that was turned into some kind of sitting room, if the table, the chairs and the torch were any indication. Wait, torch? On top of a crate was a torch, still burning, but with nobody to hold it. It must have been one of them, whoever he or she might be.

In total, including the one he came thru, there were three doors. Kedlorn chose the one to the right randomly, and every drop of dizziness or foggy vision evaporating. Imoen was standing next to Irecnicus, the mad elf cutting calmly into a corpse. He raised his eyes to met Keldorn’s, the paladin immediately finding the look as being one of annoyance.

“Ah, the knight”, Irenicus stopped cutting, putting the scalpel aside. “I’ve been expecting you”, Keldorn responded by bringing out his sword. “Impatient, aren’t we? Imoen”, the girl stiffened, “be a dear”, Imoen turned towards Keldorn with the most heart wrenching expression, and, when Irenicus snapped his fingers, lunged towards Keldorn.

“Imoen! Stop!” He didn’t dare to hurt her, and so he just dodged everything she threw at him. “Fight it, Imoen! Fight whatever spell he put upon you! You are stronger than him, so, please, fight!”

Imoen started shaking hard, she turned her heard towards Irenicus, who was having a quite annoyed look, but something sparked in those evil eyes. Imoen turned back towards Kedlorn, opening her mouth with great strain and trying to make out words.

“Iii – D-Dom-Dom-Domin – “

“Domination!” Imoen shakily nodded her head.

“Hi-Hi-Hit me!” Imoen raised her hand

“What?!” that surprised him enough to give Imoen the opening to cast a Lance of Disruption.

Keldorn was thrown back, hitting the wall with enough force to leave his vision full of black spots. He barely regained his sight, just in time to catch Imoen’s enchanted short sword. His gauntlets managed to stop the blade from cutting his into his hands, but not before it could cut deep into the metal.

And yet she pushed down with a magical strength, threatening to plunge the blade deep into his chest. Tears were falling down from Imoen’s face, and she would be sobbing if Irenicus were to let her. No, he couldn’t see her like this. He’s got to admit it, he was proud of Steve and Imoen as if they were his children, but she still had some time until he won’t see her like a child. This is why what he was going to do will hurt him more than her.

He twisted the blade, this way getting her out of balance. He let go of the blade, and, before she could straighten herself, punched her in the jaw, hard, knocking her out like a sack of rocks.

And now he was face to face with Irenicus, somehow back to life, a dangerous wizard who was staring at him with an unreadable expression. He raised a hand towards Keldorn, pulling every finger close to the palm until only the pointer remained. A green orb formed on the tip.

Keldorn took a smoke bomb from Imoen’s belt and threw it at Irenicus. He caught it, just as expected, activating and filling the room with an acrid tasting smoke. While the wizard was distracted, he picked Imoen, and ran away to the other room as fast as he could.

Even the gods couldn’t stop him from swearing. The room was devoid of light, exception being Imoen’s torch. And just as he said that, a thin grey hand grabbed the torch and brought it close to her face. Bodhi smiled, her bone white glistering in the orange light

“Well, if it isn’t the paladin himself”, said the vampire with amusement. “I hope the gift”, she chuckled, “was to your liking”, Kedlorn grit his teeth, ignoring her words, he could fight, but Imoen would be vulnerable.

“How did you come back, demon!?” part of it was a true question, the other, a way to distract her.

“Demon?” She chuckled. “Oh, you flatter me! You should ask the one asleep, she knows it better.”

“What are you talking about? What part does she have?” he didn’t know how much was she seeing the dark, but Keldorn was the most careful in reaching for Imoen’s belt, she always had many bomb types on her, one of these might be of help.

“She’s still a child of Bhaal, even after the taint was removed. No matter how good or bad they are”, Bodhi grinned, “they go to daddy. And for a moment, more than enough, we too became Children of Bhaal. So who gets our souls other than him?” Keldorn swallowed the knot forming in his throat, she had to be lying.

“Bhaal is dead. And the Solar made sure that he would remain it that way.”

“So? You think death has any meaning for those who want to live?” she laughed darkly. “Anyway, daddy still has some business to be done, so he sends the best.”

“You?” Keldorn asked, incredulous. “You are his best?” Bodhi shrugged.

“Have you heard of any better?” yes, the Five. “Mostly I didn’t care as long as I kill something, and my brother couldn’t care even less as long as he was revived. I expect he has already made plans for a rebellion by now”, Keldorn threw a bomb at Bodhi. She, like Irenicus, caught it easily, activating it and wiping her smile off in a ball of flames. Even better, her head caught fire, lighting the room enough for Kedlorn to find the exit.

And so had Keldorn found himself running once again, hurt and carrying Imoen, adrenaline being the only thing that was keeping him alert and awake. Alert enough to hear something skittering on the walls and the ceiling. He didn’t dare look, and the snarling only confirmed what he already knew.

Before him a door opened, and something came out off it.

No. Wait. He was wrong. It wasn’t something, it was someone.


	13. You Can't Kill Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title comes from Icon for Hire - You Can't Kill Us

Hiding from the Red Wizards was never supposed to be something she would do ever in her life. What would Homen think? That she has gone mad, most certainly. She has done nothing wrong to Thay, what were they thinking about!?

Hmph. No, she had to think clearly here. These things couldn’t be Red Wizards, no they had to be illusions or constructs of the house. This was no haunting and certainly no mimic, no matter how big they grew. She has prepared spells of the highest level, but she had the suspicion they wouldn’t find too much use in here. Not enough space and there was the chance of killing the primates that were following her.

As denigrating as it seems, hiding behind pots, wardrobes, armchairs, under tables and beds has saved Edwina’s life more times than she could count. But, even she could feel it, they were playing with her, making sure she could have a safe spot to catch a breath, just to appear out of nothing, throwing her again on the run.

The game was about to end, she felt it, the manor itself began to change. Edwina passed the same flower pot four times, the same oak table at the corner five times, and one of the corridors was longer than the first time she passed through it, disappearing entirely on the third.

But this? This was madness, pure madness. An amalgam of stairs and floors, twisting and turning without end. Edwina’s eyes watered just from looking at it, one set of stairs went up and down on itself until it had an exit, Edwina went through and archway, finding herself at the other side of the room, facing the archway, and going back didn’t take her back, but to a floor that was upside down.

And when Edwina passed through a door, she was welcomed by eight Red Wizards in their simple red robes, with faces covered in impenetrable shadows. Edwina cast an Improved Invisibility and ran back before their True Sight could find her.

From there on, it was a game of cat and mouse. No, tiger and mouse better said. For every teleportation, the wizard were there before her, for every Acid Arrow thrown there were eight thrown back, every Magic Missile was redirected to block her way in any shape or form, from breaking the door to breaking the floor.

Edwina fell through one of those holes on a staircase, continuing down until she landed painfully at the feet of one Red Wizard. By this moment, Edwina had enough! The cheap imitation of Red Wizards had angered her enough, they would pay for this transgression!

She cast Time Stop.

In less than four seconds, all the spells she had cast would turn this thing into bloody, charred chucks, ready to be turned to dust. And by when the fifth second passed time didn’t start.

The Red Wizard moved, slowly and weird, like a marionette shaken too much by its puppeteer. There Edwina found that the opposite was not true for her, she still remained frozen like a statue, except for her eyes. Time didn’t start when its five second ended, it was still stopped but it didn’t stop twitching. One by one, the rest of the Red Wizards rejoined the first, forming a V in front of her, all twitching without rhyme or reason. The front wizard raised a hand, pointing with a clawed finger at her forehead. The claw came closer and closer to her forehead, almost an inch from her head, ready to pierce the skin –

It felt like the entire world shook as if an immense earthquake. The spell broke, Edwina backing away from the wizards. They didn’t react, staying still like statues. Edwina didn’t dare try her luck. She turned on her heel and ran away as fast as she could, putting as much distance between them as she could.

The first door she passed through, that was the one that took her out of that eldritch maze. She didn’t expect the corridors to be any better, but at least in them she could feel something resembling normality. Fortunately, whatever that was that shook the house, made it so the rooms were arranged in a more orderly fashion.

But what she didn’t expect was to find a cheap copy of the paladin holding the body of the pink girl. It was unfinished, it had quite a bit of neck missing, yet it wasn’t bleeding. Must have been made it quickly, to fool the girl. Hmm, it must have been her who had made the house quake, no other reason to get her.

“Edwina?” it asked. Ah, they got smarter. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here kidnapping the pink one?” In Edwina’s hands appeared a ball of flames

“Kidnapping? What are you talking about? I’ve just save her from Irenicus and – Bodhi! She is still here! Waiting to strike from the shadows!” Keldorn looked back to the empty, dark, hallway.

“They are dead for many moons, copy! How do you know that?” Edwina’s eyes narrowed. “How do I know you are not a copy? Tell me something only Keldorn would know!”

“Well”, Keldorn hasn’t been one of the first in Steve’s party but he’s been there enough to have more than a few tales. “Oh”, Edwina didn’t like his smile, “I know. When you first go changed into this form, Cernd was in our party. What did he say? Something about a forest and them never being put to use.”

“It is you”, she growled towards the paladin, who was sporting the best expression of innocence. “Whatever. We have to find the others if you want to have a chance to escape here alive, Edwina turned to pass throught the door she came from, but she stopped. Do you hear that?”

It was footsteps. The two turned back towards the darkness, Edwina preparing a spell and Keldorn putting a hand on the sword’s hilt. The sound stopped, it being replaced by a loud creak of the door. The footsteps became loud and clear, and with them the light of a torch. Keldorn immediately relaxed, Edwina let her hands to the side, but still stayed tense.

From the shadows emerged Jaheira. The moment she looked at them, she relaxed slightly.

“Keldorn, greeted Jaheira. “It’s good to see another familiar face in these halls.

“Aye, the same. How did you find us? I’ve found Edwina by chance, same with Imoen. You? Did you find anyone else on the way?”

“Yes. Thankfully. I’ve met Minsc and Aerie”, she scowled, “but we’ve had to separate once again. If it wasn’t for her, we would still be lost.”

“How so?” asked Edwina. “(She has her moments, but how?)”

“She was the one who shook the manor”, stated Jaheira narrowing her vision. “I don’t know how, but she came back burned, poor thing.”

“I understand. We should rejoin them at once then”, decided Keldorn. “The two of them in a place like this”, Keldorn trailed off a bit, before shivering slightly. “I know what this house has to offer, I can’t imagine what it has prepared for them.”

“Ugh, my head”, said Imoen groggily. Keldorn immediately and gently took her off his should and stood vigil near in case she fell or something. “What happened? All I remember was – “, Imoen’s eyes widened and the moment her eyes fell from Edwina to Jaheira, she screamed. “No no no no, how could he be alive. How could he be alive? I killed him! I killed him twice! No…I thought killing him would stop him!”

“Cease your crying, girl!” shouted Edwina. “That Irenicus that you have seen couldn’t be the real one! I have seen Red Wizards! What could the Red Wizards be doing here?” Imoen laughed bitterly.

“You have done a lot for us, against Thay and the Red Wizards”, Edwina remained silent. “And, you know what, you may be right, what could they be doing here? What if they were made by Irenicus? He cloned and cut, who says he couldn’t played with the Red Wizards like played with us?”, Edwina stared at Imoen emotionlessly, but her skin, even in the orange light, seemed to become lighter. “Keldorn”, Imoen might have calmed herself a bit, but still shook, “don’t lie. Was Irenicus alone?” Keldorn looked Imoen in the eye, still as statue, but with one crack the whole mask broke.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Bodhi?” Keldorn nodded. “Of course.”

“I have burned her face with one of your bomb, so it wasn’t a complete loss”, even for a moment, the fear Imoen harbored lightened hearing that. “We need to move, we have to find the others while we still have time. Aerie has done something to make this possible.”

“Very well, Keldorn”, said Jaheira. “Lead the way, if you may.”

\---

First, the floor shook. An earthquake? No, it couldn’t be, this zone wasn’t earthquake prone. Second, he heard a thud

The sound Sarevok heard nearly made him extinguish his torch. For a moment he thought it was that monster, but no, it sounded more like if someone has fallen down. A groan just confirmed that it wasn’t the monster.

That voice though… Steve? Brother?

“Brother?” Sarevok slapped his mouth cursing himself for such an obvious mistake.

“Huh? Sarevok?” At the very least, Steve, if it was truly him, was on edge just like him. ”Is that you?” Sarevok breathed deeply and made his decision.

“Yes, brother”, he said, following Steve’s voice. “How did you find me?”

“I could ask you the same thing”, the voice was getting louder and cleared. “I was pulled in the dark, after a … play.”

“A play? What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean”, no, he didn’t. “I don’t know how real it was”, Sarevok passed the corner, nearly hitting Steve. “I can’t believe to say it, but it’s good to see you.”

“Likewise”, brother. “It’s good to see a familiar face in this dark maze. Have you seen anyone else?”

“The play”, said Steve cryptically. “They were there, but it wasn’t them, they couldn’t be”, Steve shook his head. “What about you? Actually, now that I look at you –“

“Don’t you dare say that I look scared”, threatened Sarevok with a casual tone.

“…Very well. I won’t say it. What have you seen then?”

“Me”, he admitted, with his head hung low. “Me, if I didn’t give up the way of the Bhaalspawn. It’s still here, somewhere, waiting for me.”

“Waiting for us, you mean”, offered Steve. “We might have a chance of escaping now that we are slowly getting the team back together.”

“But how?” thought for a moment Sarevok. “What was the reason for our meeting, if it separated us before”, an idea passed through Sarevok’s head. “Brother, have you felt the quake?”

“No, I don’t think so, Steve rubbed his face. I was pulled through the door into a pich black darkness for just moment. A moment that seemed like an eternity, like I was falling into a bottomless void. Ugh, then and I’ve found myself on the floor in the next, who knows how much time has passed”, something light up in Steve’s mind. “You think that quake had something to with our reunion!” Sarevok nodded. “We have to move then! This would be our only chance to regroup with the others and leave this place. This is no simple haunting, we have to leave!”

“And I fully agree with you, brother. I suggest we move then, who knows how much time we have until the house continues its games or the creature wearing my face comes back.”

It didn’t take them long to find out they were alone in the dark and cold corridors. Truly alone, the monster wasn’t there with them anymore, the ever encompassing silence. Even their heartbeats and their footsteps were muffled by the manor, as if itself wanted them silent. And where has the monster went? Why has the house decided to not follow the pursuit? All these question, they did nothing but give him a headache.

And everything they expected of this manor went up in air when passing the corner the hallway slowly began to break down until they gave away to a forest. Even more mind twisting, there was no hallway looking back, just a hole in reality surrounded by endless forest were the way back was.

And after a long time without them, the lightning flashed, lighting up the forest from a skylight in the sky. The forest was infested with shadow creatures, their red eyes fading out the last. They weren’t after them, their eyes being focused in different directions was the first sign, the next the lack of aggression.

“Mazzy”, murmured Steve, while searching the trees vigilantly.

“Beg your pardon?”

“These are the shadow monsters Mazzy had fought before she met us. She must be here.”

And a body was thrown at their feet from the dark

But thrown at their feet wasn’t Mazzy or a Shadow monster, it was Rasaad. Out of the foliage came out a person Steve thought to be long dead. Gamaz, the brother of Rasaad, grey and skinny like a fresh corpse risen from the grave. Gamaz took a moment to look over Steve and Sarevok.

“Ah, it is you”, Gamaz said disdainfully to Steve. “Another fool, friend of my brother. I presume you came to save him, haven’t you?”

“And to put down a dead man walking”, Steve pulled out his sword, readying himself to fight Gamaz once again. “I see that your neck healed well, Rasaad knew how to hit right.”

Gamaz narrowed his eyes, going after Steve with an inhuman speed, the man barely having any time to block. A kick was threatening to strike Steve in the stomach, he brought his hilt down to stop it, but in exchange Steve was hit in the jaw hard enough to throw him to the floor. He rolled out of the way, just in time for Gamaz to punch the ground. Steve rolled back on his feet and slashed at Gamaz’s chest, the monk retreating enough so it left him only a superficial cut.

And he caught Sarevok’s blade before it could hit him, retaliating with an elbow in the plexus, pushing the already dented plate into Sarevok’s flesh. Steve saw the opportunity and cut deep into Gamaz’s side, continuing with one towards the neck, again Gamaz dodging enough to escape with only a small cut, nothing that would threaten his unlife.

The punch Gamaz gave him would have shattered his sternum and rib cage if it wasn’t for the enchanted plate, but it had its limits, it was dented deeply and it hurt, some bones must have been broken. Gamaz grabbed him by the collar underneath, raised him enough to look up towards the monk and his fist covered in dark flames. He pulled his fist back, ready to finish him and Steve stabbed his thigh until he reached the dagger’s hilt. Then he pulled it hard to the side.

Gamaz roared in pain and kicked Steve away with his good leg. He pulled the bloody dagger out, just in time for Sarevok to stab him in the back, right between the ribs, but he was stopped from ripping it out sideways by Gamaz hitting him in the teeth with the back of his head.

Blood flew from Sarevok’s mouth, but he didn’t spit any teeth. He was lucky, he bit his tongue, but not hard enough to lose it . Steve was still down, and Sarevok wouldn’t stand much longer with him around, after them his brother – Rasaad was missing! He wasn’t where he had thrown him! No matter how much he looked for him, he couldn’t find him!

Something tapped him on the shoulder. It was instinct that made Gamaz turn. Turn to see his brother brimming with fury. His hand was alight in golden flames. He tightened it into a fist and it stroke true.

It was a wonder how didn’t Gamaz’s jaw fly off, but the end result was the same. Gamaz was thrown to the ground in incredible pain, and could barely raise himself on his elbows when a greatsword stabbed the ground in front of him. It was Sarevok, his face twisted in a bloody grin. Gamaz could only see how the blade came up and down, then darkness.

“I… I… Thank you”, said Rasaad, with all the strength he had, his eyes avoiding the head.

“No problem”, Sarevok popping his neck and bones. “I needed that”, he murmured.

“Rasaad, it’s good to see another face”, said Steve, his smile dropping when he saw his state. “How in the Nine Hells are you still standing?”

“Heh, willpower and whatever health potions that didn’t break”, Rasaad coughed. “I don’t know how I can even thank Selune for my survival and your appearance. I’m sorry that I’ve had to drag you into my mess once again, but I thank you nontheless.

“You’re our friend, we would have helped you even if you haven’t asked, said Steve. But more of that later, we have to get out of this manor! There are dark forces at work that even we can’t compare too!

“Alorgoth!” he growled. “I know, I have seen him. Steve, he has escaped the Shadow plane. He must be the one twisting this mansion to his dark desires.”

“If it was that simple”, sighed Steve. “It’s worse than Alorgoth. It’s not him who does this, that’s the problem, we have no idea who’s behind this, if it is a who.”

“It is true”, added Sarevok. “I have seen the Slayer, one wearing my face.”

“And I saw Yoshimo. He was dead, yet still alive.”

“By Selune’s light! Then I agree, we must leave this manor as soon as possible – Mazzy! Oh Mazzy forgive me!” Steve didn’t have to ask him what was wrong. “I left her behind! Ah, my hate for Alorgoth clouded my vision again!”

“Then we need to get her too. The shadow demons infest the forest and – Oh no, what if the Shadow Lord or Patrick are here?” a shriek was heard everywhere in the forest. “Here’s our answer!”

“It came from over there”, pointed Rasaad. “Follow me!”

Now the shadows came after them too, snarling and growling. The men were tired and beaten, but when their friend’s life was on the line all the aches and the pain became an afterthought, they continued fight through the hordes of shadow creatures until they reached what could be called a nightmare made reality.

Surrounded by shadows like black flames, Patrick was raising Mazzy in the air, forcibly pushing dark energies through Mazzy’s mouth and nostrils, choking the life out of her, and replacing it with their own false imitation. The chuckling turned soon into a dark, deep, reverbed laugh, as Mazzy’s chokes became softer and softer.

And suddenly she was free to cough her lungs out on the forest floor. Rasaad was in front of her facing Patrick and ready for battle. Oh, thank the gods. But it didn’t stop just there. Surprising her were the coming of Steve and Sarevok, beaten and bloody but still up and ready to fight. Mazzy coughed and coughed until she spit blood, but, evne then, that was the moment she felt clean.

“What”, she inhaled deeply, coughing some more blood that remained, “what did you do?” Patrick was raising himself from the grassy floor, in the tree trunk behind him a deep hole.

“I was too far away to hit him, so I’ve had Sarevok throw me”, Sarevok nodded with a savage smile.

All four of them against one, this was it, after this they could run out to find the others and leave.

Patrick looked at them with an unreadable expression. His face became emotionless, he opened his mouth larger than could even be normal for gnome and started letting out a haunting groan. He floated down to the floor, where he started melting into a pile of flesh, becoming one with it and disappearing completely.

The four looked at each other in shock, this wasn’t what they expected…

A great and oppressive atmosphere surrounded them. It gave them no answer, it gave them to clue, but they knew, the manor was done playing games, now they were its!

They didn’t need a plan, they didn’t need orders, it came to them like instinct. Steve grabbed Mazzy, she didn’t complain, she kept holding Steve knowing that her life depended on it, and ran as fast as possible with Rasaad and Sarevok in tow. The forest quickly gave way towards the classic walls of a manor, but normal, if they could have been called that, were they not, they pulsated like muscles under electric shocks and the doors bent like soft flesh.

\---

Aerie knew what was happening was a bad sign, the worst of them all even. The house was angry. Gone were the games, now it was time to finish them off. Aerie grit her teeth, there was no time to run through the corridors like they were the only way they could take.

Aerie raised Crom Faeyr towards the wall. If they couldn’t find the exit, they would make one!

\---

When the walls started to move, Edwina didn’t waste any time casting Haste, they needed it now! Everything around them was a blur. Was it from the speed? Or from the headstrong determination of getting towards the exit? It didn’t matter anymore, one thing was true though.

The house was angry. And it had no more patience for games. They had to get out, and they have to get out now!

And before Keldorn could open the door, the floor underneath all of them started to crack. Jaheira sneered, grinding her teeth. Imoen cursed loudly. Keldorn cursed softly. Edwina sighed and cast a mass protection on the team, expecting the fall to hurt.

\---

When the wall, the floor or the ceiling, depending on who you ask, broke apart, it didn’t turn into dust and rocks. No, it broke into colored flesh and acrid tasting blood and lymph.

When the shock wore off, everybody was overjoyed to find themselves reunited. A joy that was short lived. Jaheira started laughing softly, surprising everybody, including Jaheira.

What?

Jaheira’s laugh got louder and louder that some even put their hands over their ears. Her skin split and twisted, molding itself into the faces of those around, Aerie, Minsc, Keldorn, and even into some of those who they’ve met or only met on the road for better or for worse, Gorion, Khalid, Irenicus, The Slayer. Tendrils emerged from the floor, impaling the copy and pulling her into the floor, becoming a part of the house once more.

For a moment it was quiet, but the shock was too much, their minds were on what happened before their eyes.

Their quiet time was shattered suddenly by the shuddering of the house. An immense face emerged from the wall behind them, groaning and screaming as if it came from the Nine Hells itself. It pulled and pulled, slowly making body for itself, hasting the efforts of finding an exit.

Aerie was the first who put her plan into action. She smashed the wall with a feral cry, revealing, no, _making_ a way forward.

She, Minsc, Keldorn, Steve and Sarevok were tasked with cutting and smashing through wall after wall like layers of flesh and tissue. Rasaad and Mazzy made sure that the walls didn’t regenerate after them, and to make sure nothing reached towards Imoen, Edwina and Jaheira as they swung spell after spell at the forming body, as it pulled itself closer towards them while the manor pulled its walls closer together, making them thicker and trying to constrict the team.

But that wasn’t enough.

With a mighty hit that would have shook the heavens itself, Aerie broke the barrier separating the storm ravaged outside from the belly of the beast.

Then they ran. They ran as fast as they could. They ran even after their legs felt like they were on fire. They ran in the dark forest light only by the occasional lightning. They ran away from a creature that followed them outside, downing tree after tree in its pursuit of the ten people who barely managed to escape its labyrinthine contents. They ran and ran, stopping only when the roar of the storm was the only one they were hearing.

Slowly, the team stopped running. It was true, whatever was that, whatever creature the manor was or was housing had lost its interest in them. Some fell down, the exhaustion finally catching up to them, some laughed, either softly thanking the gods for their survival or loudly and madly. Some simply stood upright, welcoming the cold rain as is cleaned the toxic blood and grime they had endured in that mad mansion.

It was over. They prevailed.


	14. Epilogue - My Dark Disquiet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from Poets Of the Fall - My Dark Disquiet

Steve rested on a balcony rail in Suldanesselar, watching the forest and the trees as they blew in the wind. Just in case, he told himself, even if the guards and Queen Ellesime herself assured him that their forest were clear. This balcony had the best view towards the forest, no tower or tree-house to block it.

He heard Imoen turned in the bed behind him. It was his turn to watch over her, to make sure her sleep was peaceful or, at the very least, to keep her from hurting herself accidentally if she woke up with a nightmare in tow. He wouldn’t have to sit here for too much by now. The sun was coming up anyway, Imoen should wake up any moment the sunlight hits her.

Steve sighed. Progress. This would be the third day in a row she would wake up with no nightmares. Of all of them, she took the hardest hit. The wound left by Irenicus, the real one, were deep wound, an impression that could not be simply washed away by his death and absence. After everything was over, it was expected that she would fall down pretty hard after meeting him alive and well, continuing the worst of his experiments.

The rest were a mixed bag. Most were shaken, but nothing that would break them. Aerie was, surprisingly enough, unfazed. Keldorn said that he felt better only after holding his daughters and wife in a bone crushing hug. Rasaad was also just shaken, with some drops of guilt mixed in. Edwina was paranoid about the Red Wizards. Jaheira was feeling… down, she never forgot Khalid, but managed to somewhat move on. Only that and after seeing him once more, something tugged on those strings. Same with Mazzy. Minsc was still Minsc, righteously angry at the manor.

“Steve…? Is that you?” Imoen yawned while rising from her bed. “You know I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t need you and Keldorn to watch over me like mother hens.” Imoen rubbed her face, then took a moment to stare at her hands.

“And to risk another hole in the wall?” he shrugged. “Nalia promised to beat us with the thickest book she could find if we were to do that again.”

“I’d believe her though”, she chuckled softly. “But, look, I’m fine. I’ve slept well for how much? Two days in a row? That’s gotta mean something.”

“Three actually”, Steve looked at her and at her kicked puppy eyes, and sighed. “Make it to five days, and I’ll vouch for you.”

“Yay!”

“Now you’ve got to convince Keldorn.”

“Wait, what?”

“Anyway, you should prepare for the day. The team sent by Ellesime in the woods we found the house should return with news today”, Steve opened the door to the hallway, but stopped and turned back “Oh, and Aerie should take off her bandages today, the healers said the digestion burns should have healed by now.”

“Oh, that’s good”, Imoen shivered, remembering what happened to Aerie. “It was worse seeing them in the light. You go on, I’ll be done in a few.”

Steve nodded and exited the room, breathing in the cold morning air. Ah, the leaves in the wind, the steeps of elves going on with their lives. He was sure that most of his friends are still asleep in beds. He should find a chair or something to wait for them.

If anyone asked, he didn’t take an involuntary nap or that it was Imoen the one who woke him up by trying to paint his face. He was just resting his eyes… Eh, should have expected it. And at the very least she tried to keep up a trong front.

Keldorn was the second one to wake up. Jaheira and Aerie the next, the former helping the later, bandaged from head to toe, walk. And so it went, Rasaad, Mazzy, Sarevok, the last being Minsc and a disgruntled Edwina carried by Minsc.

“So”, Edwina said, looking left and right for any elf or guard, “was the Queen worth my beauty sleep?”

“If it means that the Red Wizards aren’t after you, then yes, it is worth it”, Jaheira said, turning away from Edwina’s pale face when she couldn’t control her smirking.

“Ah, I understand”, she nodded. “(I should receive a response Homen soon. Just to be sure. Just to be sure.)”

Unfortunately for the team, the Queen took her time. Or her people have not arrived yet, a worrying thought especially after all that has happened.

In the meantime, the healer came to remove Aerie’s bandages. Their fears were unfounded, Aerie’s face was scarless. Battle scars were expected, every one of them had at least one proudly visible, but what the house had done to her… no painter could make her portrait look good.

Aerie on the other hand couldn’t share their feeling.

Her face was smooth and lacking in defects. Why was it like that? She had a small dent here or a barely visible wrinkle there, now they weren’t there. Her face was never this flawless before. She frowned slightly, her flawless face was bothering her more than she would have expected.

“So, what did you do to heal her?” asked Steve. She welcomed that distraction, and, honestly, she was curious too. “Any spells we tried failed to work.”

“Whatever substance she came in contact with, it stopped healing magical healing, either from divine sources or potions. A… worrying discovery, to say the least. Let’s hope we don’t run into what creature you have found out there. To say it a simple way, we removed the affected tissue and tried again.”

“And seems like it was successful”, commented Steve, to which the healer nodded.

“Very successful indeed. No scars even.”

Aerie should feel happy, should feel at easy that she came out fine, but still, she couldn’t help but feel bothered by her flawless face. She never had a flawless face. Even the, she smiled and nodded in thanks to the healer.

“Steve McConnor?” a guard came from around the corner, startling the team, while the healer nodded back at the guard.

“Uh, yes?”

“The Queen is expecting you and your company”, Steve nodded.

“Thank you”

“I can lead you if you so wish.” The look in his eyes, he was there when they came for help.

“Ah. Sure… Sure, after you”, Steve paid his thanks towards the healer and, followed the guard towards Ellesime’s council room. The scout team just came back, and at the moment Ellesime soaked in every word that was coming out of the leader’s mouth.

The Queen made a sign towards the leader to pause his story in the moment the ten entered the room. The guard bowed deeply, while the others bowed their heads.

“Thank you for bringing them in”, the guard raised himself up. “You can go if you wish so”, he nodded and exited the room, closing the door behind him. “Captain, skip the technical things for the moment, and tell them what have you found, if you please.”

“Of course. First of all, yes, there were signs of the house existing in the forest. Mostly disappearances and witnesses of the said house, plus the destruction caused by a creature in a clearing. Secondly, and I’m sorry for saying it, but there was no manor there”, a silence reigned in the council room.

“Excuse me?” asked Steve.

“You said the manor wasn’t there?” asked Jaheira.

“Impossible” murmured Keldorn.

“My eyes didn’t deceive me. The ground was disturbed in a rectangular shape, but nothing more than that, no other signs that the manor was moved or it moved itself. No drag marks or steeps of any shape or form.”

“So, we can’t even trust the location”, muttered Steve bitterly. “The crest, the family name, the building, and now the location, all something that might change one day”, Steve rubbed his face, tired and frustrated beyond measure.

“I am truly sorry that I couldn’t help you more”, said Ellesime. “And I know what how feel, I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that something like that was running free in Faerun. I’ll try to spread the word, but even I don’t know how well will it work”, Ellesime slumped into her chair for a moment, looking as tired as them. Whatever have you found out there, a creature with such abilities, it’s something never seen before. I just hope we can find it and stop it before it’s too late.”

“So do we.”

“Until then, once again you are free to stay here as long as you like or, Ellesime’s eyes trailed towards Imoen for a split second,” until you can spend your nights in peace”, Imoen sighed and looked towards Steve, him looking back sadly.

“Thank you, Que – “her eyes narrowed – “Ellesime”, she chuckled softly.

“It is my pleasure. You are free to go. And feel free to ask me if you need anything.”

The day went fast, most of it being spent around the city, helping the people and more or less wasting time, until they went back to sleep.

“Ya know something? Steves need sleep too”, said Imoen, rolling her eyes.

“Five days”, he said in a sing song voice.

“I know”, she groaned in her pillow. “But, no, seriously”, Steve looked back at her, at her tired eyes, “Steve, you need to sleep. Ask somebody to bring you a bed. Please, for once, don’t be a hero”, Steve chewed on that request, and opened his mouth. “No, no bargaining here. If not for you, then for me. Please.”

“Fine, but I’ll stay at least till midnight”, Imoen sighed.

“Ugh, of course. Well, better than insomnia I think,” she pointed at Steve. “Listen to me Steve McConnor, that if you don’t sleep till then, I will… I will, uhh”, she scratched the back of her head. “Damn, I should have thought of something before”, she murmured.

“Tie me to the bed?” he offered in an amused tone.

“Tie you to your bed!” Imoen couldn’t keep that serious face on and soon exploded in giggles, Steve soon joining her.

It didn’t take long for Steve and Minsc, who wanted to get some water, to bring his bed into Imoen’s room. With the threat of consequences once again hanging above Steve’s head if he didn’t go to sleep at midnight, Imoen let herself fall asleep.

Steve was pretty sure she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

He was tempted to defy her and to stay awake the whole night, but she was right. He needed sleep too and a nightmare of hers would wake him up anyways.

Midnight, he said... Heh.

Couldn’t hurt to go to bed a bit earlier.

The woods were clear, that was what the guards and the Queen said. We would look out for himself, just in case, but he trusted them, if they said so, he had no reason to disbelieve them.

Steve sighed, he knew this view was magnificent, the forest going on and on until it hit the horizon. Ugh, if it only wasn’t blocked by this tree house. Steve rubbed his eyes, and yawned hard, until the headache stopped him. Yeah, he should go to sleep, there was no reason to stay up late more than necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, the final chapter! 
> 
> It wasn't perfect, but at least I've had fun writing it and putting it here. So, Thank you to all who read it, left comments and kudos! Especially since this my first fanfiction ever and first work ever written in english!


End file.
